


Perspective

by Snailhair



Series: Purpose [10]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Acceptance, Birth, Character Growth, Crobby - Freeform, Destiel - Freeform, Family Drama, Fluff, Forgiveness, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Jollie, Judence, M/M, Mommy Issues, Pregnancy, Sabriel - Freeform, Seeing things in different ways, Smut, midam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2020-07-20 08:14:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 79,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19988938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snailhair/pseuds/Snailhair
Summary: Jessica and Oliver receive a surprise during their Honeymoon, one which will change their lives forever. Meanwhile, as Jude and Clarence prepare for their wedding, an unexpected guest arrives and nearly throws the whole thing off course.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again, everyone! Long time no see, eh? ;D I'm very sorry for the delay, but never-the-less, part ten of the Purpose Series is finally here! :D (About time, right? Lol) This one picks up right where the last one left off, literally hours after Jess and Ollie's wedding. Which, if you haven't read any of the stories before this one, will sound like complete gibberish. However, if you have been following this story for years – as I know some of you have, and I love you for it – you will know exactly what's going on. And I'm happy to finally bring it to you! :) Without further ado, I give you chapter one! :D Enjoy!

Jude clung loosely to his fiance's shoulder, using it to steady himself as he stumbled down the bunker hallway. The concrete floor and gray tiled walls seemed to blur together as they walked, making him feel even more unbalanced than before. Wow, he really shouldn't have had that Jack and Coke at Jess and Ollie's wedding reception. How much alcohol was in that drink? A whole bottle's worth?

“Cl – Clare-bear,” Jude slurred, turning to stare at the devilishly handsome man aiding him down the hall, “How much drink did you put in my drink?”

Clare laughed a little, which made Jude smile. While the sight of Clare's happiness was lovely, Jude didn't understand what was so funny. He was asking a serious question.

“How much _drink_ did I put in your _drink_?” the blonde demon repeated with a raised eyebrow.

“My Coke,” Jude rephrased in a mumble, briefly bracing a hand on the wall nearby to remain upright, “How much Coke was in my Jack?... I mean... You know what I mean...”

Again, Clare chuckled at Jude's messy words.

“Wow, Jay,” he smirked with a head shake, “Half a glass of alcohol and you're as drunk as a skunk. Next time, you're getting virgin drinks.”

“Skunks don't get drunk, Clare,” Jude paused his steps to argue in the hall, “and I'm not a virgin. Stop calling me a virgin -”

“ _Shhh_ ,” Clare interrupted, grinning as he reached up to cover Jude's mouth and glance around, “Not so loud! Do you want your parents to hear you say that? Geez, I'm never getting you drunk again.”

Though he wanted to argue some more, Jude allowed his fiance to lead him the rest of the way to his bedroom. As always, Jude's Batman nightlight was lit in the corner, making the whole room glow with a warm yellow tint. Clare attempted to gently let go of Jude to lay him on the bed, but Jude ended up plopping the rest of the way down. And once he was in a horizontal position, Jude laid still and blinked lazily up at the ceiling. His suit – the same he wore to Jess's wedding earlier that day – felt so hot and tight; like he was being strangled by heated ropes. He grumbled and tugged at his vest, trying to get his fingers to work so that he could take it off.

“Clare,” Jude groaned, helplessly rolling his head toward his fiance, “It's hot in here. I'm on fire. Help me, I can't – I can't get it off.”

Clare laughed again – ugh, what was so funny? – before finally leaning over to help Jude undo the vest. His thin fingers kept working, however, and dug deeper to unbutton the white shirt underneath. Cool air breezed across Jude's bare chest and he sighed deeply in relief. Ah, that was much better.

“There,” Clare smirked, standing up straight to plant his hands on his hips, “Now, can you keep it down? I don't want your dads to kick me out of the bunker for disturbing the peace.”

The thought of Clare having to leave the bunker for any reason made Jude feel terrible. Jude didn't want Clare to go anywhere. Clare had to stay there, with him, forever. Instead of speaking any of his thoughts out loud, Jude just made a pout face and held up both of his unsteady arms. He was silently asking Clare to join him in bed, keeping the volume down just like the demon wanted. At the gesture, Clare sighed and seemed to oblige. Jude watched with hazy vision as the sexy demon slid out of his suit jacket, tossed it aside, and unbuttoned his own vest before lowering himself into Jude's embrace. The two of them barely fit together on Jude's twin-sized bed, but Jude was grateful for the lack of room. The small mattress forced them to cuddle closer to remain comfortable.

Once Clare was in bed with him, Jude rolled onto his side so that he could stare at the demon's pretty face. Clarence's light blonde hair framed his smooth jawline, where light stubble peppered his cheeks and chin. His lips were deliciously pink and his eyes were like wooded forests. Jude felt like he could stare at him forever and never get bored. The intoxicated angel raised his left hand up to cup his fiance's face and he barely noticed the silver band on his own finger. The engagement ring had become such a natural part of Jude that he nearly forgot how special it was. His eyes slowly traveled from the diamond filled band back to Clare's large eyes.

“Can I marry you, now?” he breathed, still tasting alcohol on his own tongue.

Clare's amused grin dimmed into a meaningful smile as he reached up to cradle the back of Jude's hand. He slid Jude's fingers closer to his own mouth so that he could press a kiss to them before answering.

“Just a few more days, Jude,” Clare promised in an equally low whisper, “and we'll be saying our vows like Jess and Oliver did today.”

Jude beamed with delight; not only at the remembrance of watching his cousin and best friend get married, but also at the thought of doing the same thing with the man he loved most in the world. But why did they have to wait a few more days?

“But I wanna do it now,” Jude slurred, clearing his throat before saying, “Clare, do you take me as your awfully wedded bride?”

Clare's hardy giggle shook the bed they were laying in and the heavenly sound made Jude's stomach tingle. After catching his breath, the demon discretely wiped the tears of laughter from his eyes and replied in a humored voice.

“First of all, Superman, it's 'lawfully' wedded, not 'awfully' wedded,” he quietly corrected, “and you're not a bride. You're gonna be a groom.”

“Nuh-uh,” Jude disagreed, shaking his head, “ _You're_ the groom. We can't both be the groom.”

“Yes we can,” Clare nodded.

The demon's soft hand raked through Jude's hair, leaving chills on the angel's skin. Jude could feel himself relaxing. And the more he relaxed, the more tired he felt. His eyes were blinking slower; staying closed longer. His body was exhausted, but he fought to stay awake. He didn't want to go to sleep. Not when he was so close to marrying Clarence.

“Marry me,” Jude demanded in a drunken mumble, struggling to keep his eyes open.

“I will,” Clare answered, sounding determined.

Jude grunted in protest, not wanting to wait for their wedding any longer. Clare's masculine scent was thick in Jude's nose and the demon's body felt warm in his arms. Though the angel's eyes were closed and limbs were heavy, he forced himself to keep fighting.

“Kiss the bride,” Jude ordered in a low voice.

Just as he was in the verge of falling asleep, Jude felt Clare's moist mouth meet his own. The demon's lips were as sweet as ever; tender and loving as they gently smashed against Jude's. The angel deepened their sideways kiss, enjoying the goosebumps it left on his sweaty skin. Ugh, Clare was such a good kisser...

“Mmm,” Clare hummed peacefully, delicately pulling away to whisper, “Now go to sleep, future husband.”

“No,” Jude grumpily denied.

“God, you're stubborn when you're drunk,” Clare sighed with a grin, his hands running up and down Jude's back as they laid together, “I might as well be talking to Dean.”

Jude wanted to point out that neither he nor his dad were stubborn drunks, but he couldn't find the energy to get all the words in proper order. Instead, he sucked in a huge yawn and snuggled closer to his fiance on the bed. Just before he faded to sleep, Jude gathered enough strength to say one more sentence.

“I love you,” he mumbled.

Jude felt Clare's lips briefly return to his own.

“I love you too, Jaybird,” Clare replied sweetly, his breath brushing against Jude's mouth with each word, “See you in the morning.”

* * *

Castiel opened the door to his right, bringing to view one of the many vacant bedrooms scattered throughout the bunker. This one housed a full-sized bed, two side tables, a dresser, and a small desk. It was arguably the largest of the spare rooms and Cas considered it to be a reasonable space for his older brother and Dean's half sibling to sleep during their visit.

“Adam, Michael,” the seraph said, turning toward the gentlemen and gesturing into the room, “You are welcome to use this space for as long as you like.”

The dark haired archangel smiled and clapped a gentle hand on Castiel's shoulder as he looked into the bedroom.

“Thank you very much, Castiel. This bunker is... amazing, to say the least,” Michael nodded.

“Are you sure we won't be in the way?” Adam spoke aloud, sounding genuinely concerned, “I mean, I know there's another wedding in a few days, and we don't want to disrupt the schedule -”

“Not at all,” Cas interrupted, offering the young man a reassuring smile, “If anything, your presence will be a worthy addition to the nuptial chaos. Dean, Sam, Gabriel, and I are more than happy to have you stay here. Please, if you need anything, let one of us know.”

At the end of Castiel's sentence, Michael suddenly tugged him into a warm embrace. The seraph blinked toward the tiled wall beyond, finding the notion a bit bizarre. Castiel had never been hugged by Michael before. Their past interactions were all completely void of any type of sibling affections. Displaying emotion was a human trait that Castiel never expected Michael to understand. Until now, at least. Though he was bewildered, Cas eventually raised his arms to pat Michael's back.

“Thank you, Castiel,” the archangel said quietly, letting go and raising up to meet eyes with the seraph, “Jessica's wedding was lovely, and we look forward to Jude's as well.”

Castiel's polite smile slowly resurfaced as he stared up at his older brother.

“As do I,” he admitted, glancing between Michael and Adam, “Goodnight.”

“'Night, Cas,” Adam waved as he wheeled their luggage bags into the spare room, “See you for breakfast in the morning. Tell Dean we want pancakes.”

Cas's smile widened as he nodded and started off down the hall. There was a warm, cozy feeling in the angel's stomach as he strode through his underground home to get to the kitchen. His light footsteps echoed through the hall around him and he beamed toward the floor with a swelling of pride. He wondered if all humans felt this way when distant relatives came to visit their homes. Was it always this heartwarming? Was there always this sense of deep companionship and love that filled each room of the house? Castiel found himself looking forward to sharing his breakfast table with Michael and Adam. It was bound to be filled with interesting conversation, as well as the occasional joke.

At the current moment, the bunker kitchen was in a state of disarray. Containers of leftover food from Jessica and Oliver's wedding reception were awkwardly stacked on the table, various dirty pots and pans were scattered on the stove, and a pile of cards and gifts had been dumped on the metal island in the middle of the room. Castiel paused to sigh in the doorway as he took in the sight. As usual, Gabriel had left the kitchen a mess. But since it was the wedding day of Gabriel's only child, Castiel decided to let it slide this time. There would be plenty of other reasons to bicker at Gabriel in the future. For now, Castiel opted to straighten up the kitchen himself.

He began by addressing the large pile of papers on the metal island. Dozens of cards from relatives – each filled with money and handwritten notes – had been cast lazily into the heap. Castiel took the time to separate the cards and money and stack it all neatly. As he worked, the angel admired each individual card, noting the loving script written in each one. The love and encouragement contained within the folds made a smile return to his lips. Jessica and Oliver had received so many thoughtful words on their wedding day. Castiel hoped that his son and Clarence would be just as fortunate...

The sound of shuffling footsteps entered the kitchen and Castiel soon felt a pair of soft, moist lips press against the side of his neck. Large warm hands slid around to hold the angel's hips and hot breath brushed against his jaw. The sudden sensation of being hugged and kissed from behind caused chills to echo down Cas's body, but he didn't need to turn around to know who it was. In fact, the heavenly scent of leather and musk that filled the air was enough to give Castiel proof that his husband had entered the room.

“I've been looking for you,” Dean murmured, his deep voice muffled against Cas's neck.

“You found me,” Castiel answered with a grin.

Though Dean was demonstrating physical affection, the angel continued his work; sorting and stacking the numerous cards on the island. He wanted to clear the room so their family could enjoy breakfast in the morning without having to worry about uncleanliness. Cas's progress, however, seemed to only make Dean try harder to gain his attention. The man's mouth suctioned to the angel's neck and he drew his hands completely around the front of Cas's torso. The feeling of Dean's front pressing against his back made Castiel's legs feel weak.

“Dean, you're distracting me,” the angel admitted, finally sitting down the card in his hand.

“Good,” Dean agreed, his hot breath brushing against the rim of Cas's ear, “You distract me all the time, Cas. Gotta return the favor.”

The grin on Castiel's own mouth grew. Ah, Dean Winchester. He was virtually the only man in the universe who constantly held Castiel's attention, whether he tried or not. Frankly, it was astounding that Dean hadn't realized that fact by now. The man pecked wet kisses all along Cas's neck and jawline, sliding his hands up and down the angel's stomach and waist as he did so. He was trying so hard to gain the spotlight, wanting Castiel to abandon his work and focus on him. Little did Dean know, the spotlight had been on him since the moment he entered the room.

With a heated sigh, Castiel finally turned his head to meet Dean's mouth with his own. The taste and moist contact sent electric waves throughout the angel's body, causing his arms to raise so that his hands could sneak up the back of Dean's head. The two of them shared the heated kiss for a few moments before the lack of oxygen drove Dean to pull back and breathe. The man's hands, however, stayed firmly glued to the angel's hips. And the sensual touch made Castiel wonder...

“Have you eaten anymore of that aphrodisiac pie, Dean?” Cas asked, narrowing his eyes to search for hints of intoxication on his husband's face.

“No,” Dean denied with a head shake, “I thought you said the pie was gone?”

“It is,” Castiel confirmed, remembering that Gabriel and Sam had taken the rest of the spiked dessert away for safe keeping, “You just seem... aroused, that's all.”

“Well, I'm looking at your handsome face, Babe. Of course I'm aroused,” Dean purred.

The angel hunkered down bashfully in the man's arms at the loving statement. Intercourse was very likely to occur between them again soon. However, Castiel felt the need to address a few mundane topics first.

“I gave the large spare bedroom to Michael and Adam,” Cas explained, “I assume they will be staying with us until after Jude's wedding.”

The mention of their son's impending marriage turned Dean's smile slightly somber. His vibrant green eyes flickered away momentarily, filling with woefulness and awe.

“Jude's wedding,” Dean repeated with a sigh, “Damn, Cas... I remember holding Jude for the first time like it happened yesterday... Can't believe he's getting _married_...”

Castiel smiled to himself, recalling the memory of the cabin Jude was born in. He, too, remembered every fine detail of the day Jude was born. The pain, the blood, the tiny sweet cry that filled the room. And the memory of transferring Jude – still wet and swaddled in Castiel's trench coat – into Dean's arms. The look of pure joy and astonishment on Dean's face was engrained into Cas's memory like marks on a stone. It was possibly the best moment of Castiel's entire existence.

For a minute, Dean and Castiel were silent; both pondering on the miracle of their child and how timed seemed to have slipped away from them too fast. But it wasn't long before they found solace in each others' stare. Looking at Dean and seeing the same pain and joy in his jade eyes comforted Castiel in a way he couldn't explain. The angel caressed his husband's face, brushing the edge of his thumb across Dean's warm cheek.

“Thank you for sharing this lifetime with me, Dean,” the angel whispered.

Dean shook his head as a smile grew back across his face.

“No, Cas... Thank _you_ for sharing it with _me_ ,” he replied, resting his forehead against Cas's, “I don't know where the hell I'd be without you.”

The two of them smiled at each other in close proximity, holding each other close and absorbing the sweet moment of affectionate intimacy. Dean's hand eventually rose to tilt Cas's chin upward so that they could share another small kiss.

“Now,” Dean breathed, “What do you say we ditch this messy kitchen, throw on a couple of cowboy hats and have some fun?”

Castiel's smile brightened. He knew it would only be a matter of time before Dean extended an offer of intercourse to him...

“As you wish,” the angel permitted.

* * *

A sharp twinge of nausea shot through Jessica's stomach, making her eyes fly wide open. She was laying next to Oliver in bed in their honeymoon suite, completely naked with him under the covers. As soon as her blurry sight took in the sunlit room, Jess knew that it was midday outside. Paris was alive and bustling on the streets below their balcony nearby, but the newlyweds were still sleeping. Back home in Kansas, it was bound to be the middle of the night. Jess was supposed to be catching up on her rest, but she couldn't. Not while the weird feeling in her stomach was only getting worse.

In an attempt to resist the discomfort, Jessica tried closing her eyes again and laying perfectly still. For a few moments, the calm approach worked. Her muscles relaxed and she could feel sleep attempting to cloud back over her mind... but then, a heavier wave of nausea crashed over her and she jolted straight out of bed.

With one hand over her mouth, Jess ran to the bathroom; shoving the door open and tumbling into the tiled floor so that she could hold onto the toilet. The back of her throat was tingling, her mouth was swelling with saliva, and it felt like she was going to puke. But, so far, she was managing to keep the vomit down. The blonde angel knelt there and blinked at her grimacing reflection in the toilet water, feeling a mixture of confusion and worry. Why did she feel so sick? Was it something she ate at the wedding? Or maybe the long flight from America to France? It almost felt like she was experiencing period cramps.

Jess pressed her hand flat against her stomach as she hovered over the toilet. Luckily, the urge to vomit was slowly going away, but she was still left trying to figure out the cause. Maybe she had a little too much to drink at the reception. Or Papa spiked more food with magic or something. Feeling clammy, Jessica tilted her head toward the bedroom and laid it down against the toilet seat. Through the open door, she caught sight of her stuffed bunny and Ollie's unicorn laying on the floor. Her white rabbit seemed to be giving her a stern expression, like he didn't approve of the fact that she was kneeling naked on the bathroom floor with her head on a toilet seat. But he didn't understand how sick she felt.

“Don't look at me like that,” Jess mumbled to the stuffed animal.

Of course, her rabbit didn't reply. But the sound of rustling sheets filled the space. It wasn't long before Ollie – totally naked with his red hair in all directions – walked up to the door. His eyes were squinted with sleep and confusion as he looked down at her on the floor.

“Jess? What's the matter?” he whispered.

Not wanting to worry her new husband, Jess tried her best to sit up and brush the blonde strands of hair out of her face. Though the nausea was still prominent in her belly, she forced herself to shake it off.

“N – nothing,” she lied, giving a smile for good measure, “I just felt a little sick is all. I think I might have eaten too much wedding cake or something.”

“Oh,” Ollie said, scratching the back of his red head, “I, um... I've never seen you sick before.”

Jessica gulped. She had never seen herself sick either... What if this was something serious?

“Should I get you some medicine?” Oliver asked, “I can go down to the lobby and ask where the nearest pharmacy is -”

“No,” Jess denied, “I'm fine. Really. You don't have to worry.”

Ollie suddenly huffed and crouched down near the floor. He took the time to look directly at Jess, meeting her eyes and gently placing his hand on her shoulder.

“Jess, I promised yesterday that I would take care of you for the rest of our lives. That includes taking care of you when you're sick,” he softly reminded.

A smile bloomed across Jess's mouth. Aww. Oliver was such a sweet, adorable, sappy romantic.

“I love you,” Jess uttered.

“I love you too,” Ollie replied, “So let me prove it.”

“You can prove it by taking me back to bed,” Jess stated, offering her hands out to him, “I think I just need some rest.”

Though it looked like he wanted to protest, Ollie smiled and gave a defeated sigh.

“Okay,” he allowed, raising back up to his feet, “but only because you're naked and I can't argue with you when you're naked.”

Jess giggled as Ollie gently pulled her back up to stand. The two of them carefully made their way across the bright room to the lovely white bed. Jess wasted no time crawling back into the sheets, but Oliver hesitated by the side. He pulled the covers over Jess's lap when she sat up to face him.

“How about I run you a bath?” he offered, “And maybe, afterward, we could take a walk around Paris? And once you're feeling better, we could... you know... Do more husband and wife stuff.”

The hopeful grin on Ollie's face made Jess laugh again.

“Alright. A bath sounds nice,” she admitted.

More excited than ever, Oliver quickly leaned over to capture Jess's mouth with a kiss before starting back toward the bathroom. Jessica watched him go, enjoying the sight of his freckled white butt cheeks bouncing as he ran. It was going to take her some time to get used to the sight of him being naked so much.

As she heard the bath water start to run in the next room, Jess took the time to cradle her stomach again. The cramping sensation hadn't wavered. She still felt sick, like she needed to throw up. And when she looked down at her body, Jess discovered another worrying development.

Her golden grace was starting to shine through her belly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am soooo sorry that this story has taken so long to get out. Summers are usually pretty rough for me and this year was no exception. I kind of lost my motivation to write anything there for a while. But you – my amazing, breathtaking, awe-inspiring reader base – reminded me why I even started in the first place. And I can't thank you enough for all the kind words you've given me. I don't thank you nearly as much as I should. Thank you so much! :) As for this first chapter, I know that it might sound pretty boring and mundane in some parts, (and it's kinda short by regular standards,) but there will be some interesting developments later on. Starting with the end of chapter two, to be exact. ;) And as you can see, Jess doesn't really have any idea what's going on with her right now. I can't wait for her and Ollie to find out though! XD It's coming soon, I promise! Again, I just want to thank you all for your patience, kindness, and love. Without you, there would be no Purpose Series. :) Love you guys! The next chapter will be out soon! :)


	2. Chapter 2

Oliver couldn't help but be concerned about his new bride. Jessica had always been a 'suffer in silence' type, and that made it difficult to tell how sick she really was. Sharing a bath together – which was quite enjoyable – seemed to make her feel better. But, again, Ollie couldn't tell if her sickness had really gone away or if it was all a front to keep him from worrying. All he could to was keep an eye on his wife and make sure she was as happy as possible on their Honeymoon.

After a good bath and a change of clothes, the two of them decided to take advantage of Paris together. It was around two o'clock when they finally ventured out onto the sunlit cobblestone streets to take in the sights. Apart from his visits to South Dakota with the Winchesters, Ollie had rarely been out of Kansas, let alone the United States. And France was absolutely beautiful. There was so much to see; so many old bookstores, small cafes, markets and shops. People walking and speeding around on scooters, chatting with other friendly folks. Strolling through Paris with Jess's hand in his made Oliver feel so great.

“I'm so glad we picked Paris, Jessie,” he leaned over to mention as they rounded a corner.

“Uh-huh,” Jess mumbled.

Ollie took the time to look at his wife, noticing that she wasn't smiling like he was. If anything, it seemed like Jessica was trying her best to restrain a scowl. Maybe she was still sick, like he suspected. If that was the case, how could he cheer her up? Oliver glanced around town, seeing French signs pointing in the direction of the art museum.

“Why don't we go to the Louvre?” he suggested, “I heard that the Mona Lisa is hanging there.”

“Okay,” Jess agreed blandly.

Hoping to lift his bride's spirits, Oliver popped into a nearby cafe and asked for directions to the museum. A kind lady pointed them up the street and Ollie led Jess along the path. Jessica didn't say much. She only followed him with her head down and her free hand over her stomach. The museum itself came into view a few moments later. Oliver knew that they had found it because of the signature glass pyramid placed at the front of the building. The newly weds' steps slowed as they gazed at the lovely view. Wow, that was a beautiful work of art. Ollie was already amazed by the outdoor decoration and they weren't even in the building yet.

When Ollie and Jess prepared to cross the street, a scooter came flying around the corner and nearly ran into Jess.

Oliver realized the scooter's trajectory just in time to yank his wife out of the way. The driver of the scooter – a large man who was talking on a cell phone – didn't even notice them. He just whooshed passed Jess with his head down, unaware of anyone but himself. Oliver glared at the idiot on the phone while the guy drove on. That asshole almost ran Jessica over! What a prick! Though he was tempted to yell his thoughts at the stranger, Ollie decided to take the high ground and just continue their journey to the museum... That is, until he noticed that Jessica's hand was gone from his own.

About the time Ollie realized that Jess was gone, he heard a loud crash from up the street. He instantly raced back up the cobblestone walkway that he came from, searching around to make sure Jessica wasn't hurt. A blue scooter, the same that had almost ran into them seconds before, had crashed into the back of a parked car. The man on the phone that was driving it, was now hoisted into the air – being held there by none other than Jessica herself. It appeared as though she had flown up the street, yanked the guy off his bike, and was now holding him above the ground by the collar of his shirt. Oliver's mouth fell open as he witnessed his wife's pure strength. Holy crap, she was strong...

“Listen here, you incompetent French bastard,” Jess growled, “The next time you try to plow your way through a crowded street _, I will hunt you down and I will end you. Do you hear me?!_ ”

The man squeaked terrified protests in French as his feet dangled over the street. Jessica eventually tossed him back on the ground next to his ruined scooter. Oliver glanced around and noticed that a few people had popped their heads out of nearby doors and windows with cell phones in hand to see what was going on. They seemed ready to film all the drama that was happening. Not wanting his wife to become an internet celebrity, Ollie quickly slid over to cautiously wrap an arm around Jess's shoulder.

“H – honey,” he whispered, “I think he got the message. Should we go to the museum, now?”

Ollie really hope that his insistence on leaving didn't upset her more. Luckily, Jess turned on her heel, reclaimed Oliver's hand, and started to march back down the street. Ollie stumbled along with his wife's demanding grip, momentarily glancing back to see the mess she made. The scooter man was visibly shaken by what just happened. To be honest, the man looked the same way Ollie felt. Confused and terrified by Jess's sudden outburst. Oliver looked back to his wife with a gulp, seeing a scowl set firmly on her features.

“Jess? Are you okay?” he gently whispered.

“Fine,” Jess barked, her eyes staying fixed straight ahead, “I just want to see the Mona Lisa.”

Fortunately, the rest of the trip to the Louvre was uneventful. The newly weds paid for their tickets and blended in with the rest of the crowd, and the stern grip Jess had on Ollie's hand eventually loosened up. Oliver kept stealing sideways glances at his life partner, trying to figure out what caused her to go celestial-badass on a complete stranger earlier. He chalked it up to her lack of sleep and feeling under the weather, and hoped that seeing priceless pieces of historic art might lighten her mood.

Oliver had seen a few art museums on school field trips in his day, but nothing on Earth compared to the Louvre. Every exhibit was breathtaking. The Winged Victory of Samothrace, the Venus de Milo, Sleeping Hermaphroditus – each and every sculpture left him in total awe. How could someone cut stone to look so realistic? The detail was so precise that the sculptures looked like real people doused with white paint. Jess seemed to enjoy the exhibits even more than Ollie did. He was grateful when he saw the smile return to her lips. The most precious artwork in the entire building was Jessica's smiling face.

After about an hour or so of walking around and admiring the paintings, Oliver and Jess finally made their way to the famous Mona Lisa. The painting itself was hanging on a wall behind a glass window, and there was a wooden barricade around the outside. Clearly, they wanted people to be able to see and not touch. There was a small crowd around the outside of it too, so it too them a moment to finally weasel their way to the front so they could see it properly. Oliver made sure that his wife had a good view before taking in the piece for himself. For a five hundred year old lady, Mona Lisa was very pretty. Ollie had never noticed how much detail was in the scenery behind her until he was able to see it in person. Da Vinci was truly a master of his work.

“She's beautiful, isn't she?” Oliver whispered to Jess beside him.

The only reply he received was the sound of a few sniffles. Ollie instantly looked down at his bride – and saw tears streaming down her face. Jessica was covering her mouth with the edge of her hand, holding in sobs while she faced the painting across the room. And her sudden sadness made Oliver's heart break. Wow. Was the sight of Mona Lisa really that moving to her?

“Jess,” Ollie said, instantly wrapping his arm back around her shoulder, “What's the matter?”

“It's... It's,” Jess sniffled again, “It's so _small_.”

Oliver gulped, glancing between his weeping wife and the painting nearby.

“Yeah, I guess it is,” Ollie nodded.

“I thought – I thought it would be bigger. But it's so _tiny_ ,” Jessica sobbed, having to pause to wipe her eyes, “Why is it so small, Oliver?”

Jessica turned to bury herself into Ollie's chest, hugging him and sobbing into his shirt. The few people that were gathered around the Mona Lisa were casting a few glances at them, but Ollie did his best to simultaneously comfort his wife and deflect the staring strangers. He was so confused. An hour before, Jessica was so angry that she was ready to turn a Frenchman into French toast, and now she was sobbing uncontrollably over the size of a painting. How was Oliver supposed to keep up with these mood swings?

“Jessie, it's okay,” he whispered as he gently stroked her long curly hair, “I'm sure there are bigger prints of the Mona Lisa out there -”

“The real one is small, though!” she interrupted with a wail.

More and more folks standing around them began to stare and Oliver could feel his face burning with embarrassment. Oh boy. How in the world was he going to get his wife to stop crying? Maybe he could find another distraction.

“Why don't we go get some dinner, Jessie?” he offered, holding on to her and carefully maneuvering through the crowd to get away, “I saw a little cafe across the street when we came in. I'll order you a big plate of salad with extra carrots, and maybe a little glass of wine? Then we can share dessert? How does that sound?”

The mention of food seemed to perk Jessica up. Her head eventually raised from Oliver's chest and she blinked around, wiping her eyes again and sniffling the rest of her tears away.

“That... that sounds nice,” she gave in.

Oliver leaned down to peck a tiny kiss to her cheek as he turned her around to lead her toward the exit. He was beginning to think Jess was starting her period – but, of course, he didn't dare mention that out loud. He didn't want to get what the guy on the scooter got earlier. Although Ollie didn't know exactly what was causing Jess's random emotional outbursts, he wanted to do everything in his power to keep her happy. This was their honeymoon and he wanted his new bride to be absolutely comfortable every step of the way.

The ten minute walk from the Louvre to the cafe seemed to brighten Jess up a bit. Her tears finally stopped and she was actively looking around at all the scenery with awe. Since it was evening time, the French diner itself was pretty crowded. Oliver was tempted to lead his wife elsewhere to eat because the line looked so long, but it dissipated quickly. Within a few more minutes, they were both seated at a table near the window with menus in hand, both attempting to read the French language on the paper.

“I'm pretty sure 'escargot' means 'snails,' so we should probably steer clear of that one,” Ollie grinned.

Jess looked up to give him a smile over her menu. And just then, as he stared across the table at the girl he had grown up with most of his life, Oliver felt more in love with Jessica in that moment than he ever had before. She was so beautiful; sitting at the cafe table with golden sun rays casting a warm yellow glow on her lovely face. Her blonde curls were framed perfectly around her head and shoulders, reminding him of how she looked when she was just a little girl. Her lips were so pink, and her eyes – like malachite gems – were dancing over her menu with precision. Jessica Winchester was breathtakingly beautiful. The ring on her left hand meant that she belonged to no one else but Oliver, and the notion took him by surprise every time.

“Jess,” Ollie breathed.

Jessica's head raised again and their eyes met, briefly rendering him speechless.

“I love you,” he reminded softly.

Jess tilted her head to the side, her smile growing. Her left hand reached out to touch his laying on the table.

“I love you too, Ollie-pop,” she replied.

The two of them were able to stare at each other for only a moment before the waiter arrived. Of course, it seemed like he didn't speak much English, but he understood when Oliver said 'salad' and 'wine.' The waiter took the menus and returned a second later to fill their glasses with the sweetly fermented drink. Once he left for the second time, Oliver took his wine glass and raised it up.

“To the most beautiful angel in the world,” he toasted, “and to our honeymoon, which has been pretty good so far... You know, other than almost getting ran over by a scooter on the sidewalk.”

Luckily, Jess giggled. And the sound made Oliver's heart happy.

“To us,” he finished.

Jessica carefully picked up her own glass and clinked it against his.

“To us,” she repeated.

The newly weds both took a sip of their wine – which Oliver found disgustingly bitter. Ew, how did people drink wine all the time? It wasn't sweet at all! He tried his best to hide his distaste as he sat his glass back down. The waiter promptly returned with their salads just in time. Jessica's had a small pile of carrot sticks on the side, which Oliver was glad to see. They both thanked the waiter and dug into their meals when he walked away. Of course, Jessica started with her carrots. Oliver watched her munch on a few of them as they sat there. But he noticed that her expression was starting to change as she ate. Her chewing slowed, her eyes narrowed, and both of her hands dropped to the table. Oliver took another sip of his terrible wine as he watched her.

“Jess?” he eventually asked, “Everything alr -?”

Before Oliver could finish his entire sentence, Jessica was suddenly up and running. She had bolted from the table so quickly that he barely had time to register which direction she was running in. Ollie wasted no time following his wife through the small cafe, seeing her dash through a door near the back. After zig-zagging his way passed a few employees, Oliver sprinted through the same door and scanned his surroundings. He was suddenly standing in an alley way behind the restaurant – where his wife was kneeling beside a dumpster.

From the sounds of violent heaving and thick liquid hitting the ground, Oliver realized that Jess was vomiting. Worry and terror consumed his entire being as he rushed over to help her. He began by pulling her long blonde hair out of the way, gently tugging it all behind her so that she wouldn't get so messy. He held onto her shoulder too, unsure of what else to do. What _could_ he do? She was an angel. How in the world was he supposed to help a sick angel?

After a few more harsh heaves, Jessica slumped back against the dumpster and slid down to sit on the ground. She wiped her mouth with the edge of her jacket sleeve, which was visibly trembling. Jess wasn't just sick, she was _scared_. The terror was prominent in her eyes.

“I – I don't know what's wrong with me,” she admitted.

Oliver had an idea, but he was afraid to suggest it. He didn't want to upset her more, though he felt the need to ask.

“Is – is your period about to start or something?” Oliver timidly prodded.

“I don't think so,” Jess disagreed, “I'm not supposed to start for a few more weeks.”

Oliver nodded and paused to rack his brain. There had to be a reason Jess was feeling so terrible. But for the life of him, he couldn't figure it out. And whenever there was a problem that he couldn't solve himself, he always turned to the people who were much smarter than him...

“Maybe we should fly home and let Gabe and Cas take a look at you,” Ollie suggested.

“No,” Jessica instantly denied, shaking her head, “I'm not going to let a little tummy ache ruin our honeymoon.”

“Jess, it's okay. We can always come back to Paris. I just want you to feel better,” he explained.

“I _do_ feel better. See?” she said, forcing a smile as she leaned against the dumpster with her hand on her stomach, “Let's just skip dinner and go see the Eiffel Tower.”

“Jess -”

“ _I said I'm fine_ ,” Jess snapped.

At his wife's sharp tone, Oliver looked down and raised his hands in surrender. He didn't want to push her into doing something she didn't want to do, but he also knew that she was ill and needed healing. Jessica seemed to realize how angry her tone was because her expression lightened and she gave Oliver an apologetic look.

“I just... I want to have an amazing time with you,” she mumbled, “I promise if it gets worse, I'll call Papa, alright? But until then, can we just enjoy this time together?”

Oliver looked up to gaze into Jessica's warm eyes and nodded.

“Okay,” he quietly permitted, “We'll go to the Eiffel Tower. But if you puke again, I'm calling your Papa myself.”

Jessica bobbed her head before offering her hand out to him. Oliver stood up and gently pulled his wife to her feet, wrapping an arm around her to keep her steady as they walked back toward the restaurant. He wanted to make sure they paid for their meal, even though they didn't get to eat it.

“Sorry you had to see me throw up,” Jess muttered bashfully as they walked.

Oliver chuckled.

“Don't be. In a weird way, it was actually kind of neat,” he shrugged, “I've never seen an angel puke before.”

“Me either,” she breathed, her tone full of worry.

* * *

The day after his cousin's wedding, Jude woke up with a dry mouth, red eyes, and a severe headache. But he was also swaddled in the arms of his sleeping fiance, so his day didn't start off too badly. He stared at Clare's handsome face for a few minutes before the pain forced him to climb out of bed. In the back of his mind, Jude knew that his grace had the power to heal whatever was causing the headache – most likely a bad hangover, as he couldn't remember much from the night before – but he didn't want to tap into his super powerful grace. Especially not around his sleeping fiance. Instead, he wandered out of his room and down the hall to his parents' bedroom.

The light in the hallway burned Jude's eyes as he stumbled toward Dad and Papa's door. He gave a tiny knock before proceeding to walk in. As he suspected, his Dad was still asleep, snoring loudly in nothing but his boxer briefs and clinging loosely to Papa, who sat up straight on the bed when Jude entered the room.

“Son?” he asked, keeping his voice quiet, “What's the matter?”

“Pop, I drank too much last night,” Jude admitted in a sigh, “Can you heal me?”

Without another word, Papa pulled his robe from the headboard, got up, and swung it on in one felt swoop. He was standing in front of Jude before Jude could even blink twice.

“Of course, Jude,” Papa said with a small smile as he reached up to cradle Jude's head, “I have healed your father's post-alcohol sickness many times.”

Jude held still as he felt his angelic father's grace light up against each side of his head. The pain and sensitivity to sounds and light slowly faded away, leaving him feeling much better. Wow, Pop was so good at that. Was there anything he couldn't heal?

“Thanks, Pop,” Jude smiled.

Papa's smile grew and he patted Jude's shoulder.

“You're welcome,” he replied, “Shall I wake your father and meet you in the kitchen? Michael and Adam have requested pancakes and I do not wish to disappoint them.”

Jude's mouth almost fell open. Oh yeah. He totally forgot that his uncles were staying in the bunker.

“Yeah,” Jude agreed, turning to leave, “I'll go wake up Clare.”

“Jude?”

Jude paused in the hall to look back at his Papa. The older, dark haired angel had a subtle look of awe hidden in his expression, like he was thinking of a memory or something. Jude wanted to ask what Pop was thinking, but the older angel smiled and sighed.

“I... I'm glad you still come to me for aid, son,” Papa said softly.

Jude was a little confused. What made Papa think that he would ever stop coming to him for help? No one had healing hands like Papa's.

“Of course,” Jude replied, “See you in the kitchen.”

Papa nodded and ventured back into his bedroom to wake Dad while Jude finished the trip to his own room. Along the way, he recalled points from his past where his Papa had healed him; knee scrapes, paper cuts, tummy aches, bruises. Papa healed all of Jude's little boo-boos in life. And Jude really hoped that he would be able to control his own grace enough to provide that sense of comfort for his own children. When and if he ever had any...

When he got back to his room, Jude found that his fiance was wide awake. Clare was sitting on Jude's bed, chatting on his cell phone. Not wanting to interrupt the conversation, Jude quietly entered and shut the door behind him, listening to Clare's side.

“Yeah, right, I'm sure Rowena would love that,” Clare chuckled into his phone, “What? How many? ...Yep, she's definitely gonna be pissed... Sure, that sounds good... Uh, I don't know. Probably around six or seven o'clock. Need me to bring anything? …Okay, see you then... You too... bye.”

Jude remained quiet and still as he watched his fiance hang up the phone. Though, curiosity quickly got the best of him and he had to ask -

“Who was that?”

The unexpected sound of Jude's voice seemed to startle Clarence. The blonde demon nearly leaped from the bed, clutching his chest with wide eyes. He spun to see Jude before exhaling and shaking his head.

“Dammit, Jay, you scared the shit out of me,” he breathed, “How long have you been standing there?”

“A few minutes,” Jude admitted, “Everything alright?”

“Other than the heart attack you just gave me, yeah, everything's great,” he grinned with a wink, holding up his phone, “That was Bobby. He said that he and Crowley are gonna have dinner for you and me at his house tonight so that we could iron out some wedding details. I told him I would have to ask you, but we could be there around six or seven.”

“Bobby's at home?” Jude asked, “I thought he stayed in the bunker last night.”

Again, Clare laughed a little, shaking his head as he dragged himself to stand up and walk closer to Jude.

“Nope. Crowley took Bobby and Rowena home after the party. That one Jack and Coke got you so hammered, I guess you forgot,” Clare paused to reach up and hold the side of Jude's face, “By the way, you're a stubborn drunk. But also kind of adorable. We should have more booze at _our_ wedding party this week.”

“Absolutely not. The headache's not worth it,” Jude denied.

The two of them stared at each other for a moment – simply taking in the sight of each others' eyes and faces fresh from sleep – before sharing a small kiss. Jude fully indulged in the embrace, reaching up to curl his arms around Clare's slender frame. Man, there was nothing he loved more than kissing Clarence. Tingles raced up his body every time their lips met, reminding him of the very first time it ever happened. Right there, in the very same underground bunker. Jude eventually pulled back so that he could look at Clare's smiling face again.

“I don't need liquor. Your kisses get me drunk enough,” Jude confessed.

“Ditto,” Clare smirked, swaying around with Jude in his grasp, “You up for some breakfast, Superman?”

“Yeah. Quick heads up, though. Michael and Adam will be eating with us,” Jude warned.

“Awesome,” Clare replied, his tone much lighter than Jude was expecting as he reached over to open the bedroom door again, “After you.”

* * *

Having breakfast in the bunker kitchen with Dad, Papa, Sam, Gabe, Michael, Adam, and Clarence was interesting to say the least. The elder angels shared tales of ancient battles while the Winchester brothers discussed victorious tales of their own. Hearing about epic fights with demons, leviathan, and other beastly creatures was entertaining, but Jude found himself wishing that Jessica was there so that she could break up the old stories with simpler conversation. The older folks barely even touched their food. They were too busy chatting, laughing, and poking fun at each other to notice their meals were getting cold. Jude and Clare eventually announced that they were headed to Bobby's around noon, and almost none of the others paused their roaring tales to wish them farewell. Jude's Papa was the only one who stood up to hug the young men before they departed.

Bobby's kitchen was a much calmer setting than the one in the bunker. Bobby and Crowley were the only souls around, other than the three hellhound dogs laying around on the floor. Luckily, Jude and Clare's presence didn't disturb the peaceful atmosphere. They helped Bobby do some research for a while before sneaking off to Clare's bedroom for some snuggle time – and a bit of making out. But when dinner time rolled around, the engaged couple made their way back to the kitchen for the planned meal.

Bobby had prepared a few T bone steaks on the grill and tossed a couple of potatoes in the oven to bake. Jude offered to help him peal and wash some garden green beans to go along with the meal, too. Though, he and Clare got into a green bean play fight and most of them ended up in the floor. Crowley brought dessert – a red velvet cake, which he admitted to stealing from a local diner without paying for – and a bottle of champagne. Despite Clare's fervent requests for him to drink, Jude politely declined the alcohol. He had learned his lesson from Jess and Oliver's reception. The four of them eventually settled in at the table to eat and discuss wedding arrangements. But the topic gradually shifted toward past stories. And before Jude knew it, Crowley had dug out one of Bobby's old photo albums and displayed it on the table amongst the food.

“Look at that charming little lump of plaid,” Crowley beamed, pointing to a sepia tone picture of Bobby as a little boy, “Hard to believe that innocent child grew up to murder millions of creatures, is it not?”

“Pretty sure you've killed more things than me, darlin',” Bobby grumbled.

“Are those actual tickets to _Kiss_?” Clare gasped, pointing toward the faded paper in the album, “You saw Kiss in concert?”

“Sure did,” Bobby agreed, taking a swig of beer with his eyebrow raised under the bill of his hat, “What, you think I ain't never seen a concert, boy? I was rockin' and rollin' all night and partyin' every day before Jude's parents were even born.”

“Dude. Your coolness level just went from a ten to an eleven,” Clare proudly declared.

Jude and Bobby both chuckled and went back to searching the album. There were so many interesting pictures; so much evidence of a long life lived to the fullest. Bobby had done so many amazing things. Jude only wished he could be as cool...

A soft knock came from Bobby's backdoor.

Everyone at the table turned to look behind them and the dog's heads raised up from the floor. The noise seemed to put every soul in the room on guard. Luckily, Bobby was able to calm them with a sigh.

“That's probably the package I ordered in the mail,” Bobby explained, “Postman usually knocks and leaves it at the door.”

“I'll get it,” Jude instantly offered.

Clare gave Jude a thankful smile before he and the rest of the room went back to talking about Bobby's old pictures. Jude grinned back at the table as he made his way to the door. Being close to Clare like this – having Clare be part of his family – made Jude indescribably happy.

Once at the door, Jude opened and looked down at the doorstep, expecting to find a cardboard box there. But, instead, he found a person. By now, it was dark outside and the only light Jude had to see with was coming from the kitchen itself. But it was just enough to allow him to see the person – the woman – standing there. It only took about three seconds for Jude's mind to register who it was.

The person on Bobby's doorstep was Clarence's birth mother. _Meg_.

Only, she looked drastically different from the corpse-like being Jude remembered from the crack house in New York. Now, she looked healthier. Her face was fuller, more pink than white. Her hair was combed neatly, parted around her face. And although there were still dark circles around her eyes, they were no longer bloodshot. She was even wearing a clean set of clothing and a dark, feminine leather jacket. The sight of her took Jude's breath away. And the sight of _him_ seemed to take _her_ breath away, too. Her eyes squinted and she leaned a little closer to see him in the dark.

“... Dean?” she asked.

Jude gulped. Uh-oh. She thought Jude was his Dad. Did he really look that much like him?

“N – no,” Jude exhaled, finding it hard to speak at all.

“Oh,” she breathed, leaning away again, “Sorry... I'm, uh. I'm looking for Bobby Singer. Does he still live here?”

Jude was unable to get his voice to work again. His mouth remained wide open as he blinked at the woman in the dark. A billion thoughts and feelings were running through his mind as he stared at her curious and hopeful expression.

But more than anything, Jude knew that Clarence was sitting a few feet away at the table in the house, blissfully unaware that the woman who abandoned him at birth was now standing directly in front of his fiancé.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Show of hands, who here was upset/angered by the SPN season 14 finale? *raises own hand* If you haven't seen it, I will try my best not to spoil it completely. But I will say that what the writers chose to do with Chuck's character is frankly, in my opinion, tasteless and a bit lazy. They could have done sooo much with his character and yet, they decided to make him out to be the ultimate bad guy just so they could have a “new” plot twist at the end of the season. (Because, apparently, repeatedly killing their main characters has gotten old. How sad is that?) The reason I say all of this is because seeing Chuck as the bad guy on TV made me realize that what I did with Meg's character in this story wasn't very nice. She went through way too much and I never gave her a chance to actually be herself. I turned her into a drugged-out mini-villain before even giving her a chance to speak. So now, I'm hoping to give her a more meaningful role in this story. And I hope that all of you will enjoy some of the plot lines I've got planned out for her. Unlike the show, which chooses to give Dean and Sam an even harder time by unnecessarily warping supporting characters into terrible people, I want to give all my characters a chance to redeem themselves... I'm so sorry for the long rant. I've been wanting to get that out for months now, and I really appreciate you taking the time to listen! :D As for Jess and Ollie, they will be getting a surprise of their own very soon. (And I'm sure most of you already know what it is.) ;) I hope that you all enjoyed this chapter and stick around for the rest! And I wanted to say, from the bottom of my heart, _thank you_ , all of you, for sticking with this story for so long. You guys mean so much to me, and I hope that I never ever let you down. *hugs* Thank you so much for reading and commenting! The next chapter will be out soon! :)


	3. Chapter 3

For several seconds, Jude was frozen on Bobby's back porch, unable to do anything but feel his jaw hang open and blink at the lady in front of him. Questions were blasting through his mind like a hurricane. Why was Meg here? Why did she look so much better than the last time Jude saw her? Why did she want to talk to Bobby? Why did she mistake Jude for his dad? Clearly, she knew Jude's parents, so did she want to see them too? What was she doing here so late at night? What was Clare going to think? Was this going to upset him? Jude didn't want Clare to be upset anymore! He had been through too much! And their wedding was only days away!

“Hello?”

Jude snapped out of his own distracting thoughts long enough to notice that Meg was speaking to him again. She was still waiting politely on the porch to hear the answer to the question she asked before. She wanted to know if Bobby still lived there. Part of Jude considered lying to her so that she would go away and he could pretend this encounter never happened. But another part of him felt that Bobby would be able to handle the situation better than Jude could. Uncle Bobby might even scare her away and warn her to never come back.

“Y – Yes,” Jude finally croaked, clearing his throat a little, “Could you wait here for a second?”

The hopefulness hidden in Meg's features never wavered. She gave a nod and tucked her hands into her jacket pockets, settling in to wait for Bobby's arrival. Jude tried to gulp as he backed into the kitchen, but his tongue had run so dry that it just stuck to the roof of his mouth. A lightheaded feeling came over him when he turned to see his fiance and two uncles still sitting peacefully at the table. Damn. Jude could practically feel this calm atmosphere about to be ruined.

“Bobby,” Jude called quietly.

He didn't intend for his voice to sound so hoarse, but it came out raspy anyway. Bobby's head raised from the photo album and the smile faded from his lips. Jude's face must have gone pale for Bobby to look so worried.

“What is it?” the old man asked.

Clare and Crowley were, thankfully, laughing and chatting about one of the pictures in the album and didn't notice the very serious question. Instead of saying anything else out loud, Jude hurriedly waved his uncle over while the others were occupied. As Bobby got up from the table to walk over to him, Jude stole a glance at his smiling fiance. Clarence looked so happy, sitting and talking with his kingly father. Jude couldn't stomach the thought of anyone taking that away from him...

“What's the matter, son? Yer as white as a sheet,” Bobby whispered once he was close enough.

“Meg is outside,” Jude breathed.

Bobby's elderly face skewed into a look of shocked bewilderment under the bill of his hat.

“Come again?” he prompted.

“Clare's mom. She's outside,” Jude repeated in a frantic hiss, “She asked to see you.”

“See _me_?” Bobby repeated, “What the hell for?”

“She didn't say,” Jude explained with a shrug, “Bobby, we've gotta do something! I don't want Clare to get upset!”

“I know, boy. It's alright,” Bobby assured, reaching up to pat Jude's shoulder, “Come on. Let's go see what she wants.”

As his uncle turned to lead the way back out into the dark salvage yard, Jude spared one more glance toward his beautiful future husband. God, Jude really hoped that he wouldn't have to see Clare's smile disappear...

Outside, Meg was still loitering on the porch. The sight of her fuller, healthy-looking face took Jude by surprise again. Other than the weary dark circles under her eyes – which were simple enough to be from lack of sleep – she appeared to be like any other normal person. Seeing her so different than before must have surprised Bobby too, because he gave Jude a slight glance with his eyebrows raised. When Bobby stepped out, Meg sighed like she was grateful to see him.

“Singer,” she hummed with a tiny sideways smirk, “Long time no see, huh?”

“Yeah,” Bobby answered, seeming to choose his words carefully, “What's it been? A few years, give or take?”

“Few years?” she scoffed, “Few decades, more like.”

Jude shared a brief look with his uncle. Decades? It had only been about six years since everyone saw her under the bridge in New York, when Crowley caught her in a demon trap and she explained how Clarence was conceived. Did she not remember that? Meg must have taken Jude and Bobby's silent exchange as judgment, because she lowered her head and looked away.

“Listen, I know I shouldn't be here,” she admitted, her breath fogging in the night air, “You don't owe me anything. But let's face it, you're the best damn hunter in the world. You're known for finding needles in haystacks... and I was hoping you might help me dig one out.”

Jude searched the lady's face in the dim light. Meg was looking for someone? Bobby gave Jude another sideways glance before taking a deep breath and crossing his arms.

“Who?” he asked.

Meg took a second to curl her long hair behind her ear to keep it from blowing around in the wind. Her eyes – which Jude thought looked a lot like Clare's, now that he could see them properly – shifted to the side to stare toward the salvage yard with confusion.

“That's just it. I... I don't know his name,” she tried to explain, “My head's all fogged up. I just remember his face. And what he did.”

The hair on Jude's arms raised. Was Meg referring to her rapist? Caldwell, the warlock who kidnapped and raped her? The man who was also Clare's father? Jude felt the urge to blurt out that the man was dead, killed by the Winchesters months earlier, but he kept silent. Bobby took a more cunning approach.

“What did he do?” the old hunter urged.

Jude expected Meg's eyes to fill with tears. He thought that she might break down and sob at the memory of what that sadistic warlock did to her... But, to Jude's utter shock, a small smile appeared on her lips.

“He saved me,” Meg answered, finally looking back to Bobby, “I was in a bad place, Singer. Trapped in a haze. There was a... monster, who tortured me. But then, _he_ showed up. And he refused to hurt me. It's the clearest memory I've got.”

“What does this fella look like?” Bobby prodded.

“Blonde,” Meg answered instantly, “Blonde hair. Like wheat. He's tall. Slender. And his eyes are, uh, green-ish, I think,” she paused to retract her hand from her jacket pocket, revealing a small empty glass bottle and tiny note that Jude found very familiar, “There was a potion in here that I drank, and it got me out of the haze. I think he left it for me. This note was with it.”

Meg held the tiny paper out to Bobby, but Jude didn't need to look at the handwriting to know who it belonged to. That note was _Clare's_. That potion bottle was the same one he left by her side when he went to see her for the last time; when he forgave her for everything she had done to him. Meg wasn't looking for her rapist. She was looking for _Clarence_. Goosebumps cast over Jude's skin as he glanced between the bottle and Meg's face. It was no wonder she looked so much better. She had actually taken the potion and finally kicked her drug habit.

The only thing Jude didn't understand was how Meg didn't remember her own son. How could she have forgotten that meeting they all had under the bridge? Meg had looked dead at Clare and called him 'it.' Did she really not remember that? Because Jude would never be able to forget it...

Bobby seemed to be just as skeptical about this news. His gray eyes scanned the note and he looked back up to search Meg's face. There was a long silence in which the three of them all looked at each other. And the longer it went on, the more desperate Meg's expression seemed to turn. Her hands clung to the bottle and the tiny paper like they were life rafts keeping her afloat at sea. The same way Clare used to hold onto the purple leather jacket he had when Jude first met him...

“Please,” Meg sighed, eventually tucking the things back into her pockets, “I know you and I have never had much in common. Demons like me are supposed to be incapable of having feelings and all that... But this man saved my life. I just want to find him and... and thank him for letting me have a second chance.”

Jude looked up at his uncle and could see that there were cogs turning behind his eyes. Bobby was actually considering the idea of letting Meg see Clarence. But Jude was firmly against the idea. No, Bobby couldn't do that! Meg had already shredded poor Clare's heart to pieces once! Jude couldn't let it happen again! Jude shook his head, trying his best to tell Bobby not to do it. But Bobby replied by meeting Jude's eyes and giving one firm, reassuring nod. There was a deep sort of wisdom in his expression, like he had constructed a vague plan and considered all the outcomes. Though Jude wholeheartedly protested, Bobby gave in.

“Come with me,” he said to the demon lady.

Once again, Jude's mouth fell open in shock. What was Bobby doing?! Was he really going to lead Meg right into the house? _Right to Clarence_?! When the old man turned to open the back door, Jude slid between him and Meg, wanting to use his physical body as a barricade between Meg and Clarence. Jude didn't care who he had to fry with his grace, as long as his future husband was kept safe.

In the kitchen, Clare and Crowley both looked up from the table with smiles to watch Bobby and Jude come back in. But those smiles vanished once they saw the woman timidly trailing behind them. Bobby's kitchen went as silent as a graveyard when everyone took in the sight of each other. Meg seemed surprised to see Clare – the same person she was just talking about – sitting at the table, but equally terrified to see Crowley sitting next to him. Crowley's usually smug features were now twisted into outrage and fury, his brown eyes darting back and forth between Meg and Bobby in a blur. Jude's attention stayed fixed on Clarence the most. The blonde demon was understandably shaken. Clare suddenly bolted to stand up from his seat when Meg entered the room, looking like a skittish animal about to flee from a predator. His greenish-brown eyes grew wide and quickly flashed over to Jude, who gave him an apologetic look and a shrug. Jude wished he could explain why Meg was there, but he had no idea.

It felt like a lifetime passed by in which everyone just looked around at each other like a Mexican standoff. The first person to speak was Crowley, who gripped the back of his chair with a clenched fist and slowly raised to his feet with his jaw locked.

“You fiendish, reptilian _whore_ ,” the king of hell growled, “What in God's name are you doing here?”

Instead of answering to Crowley's demeaning and accusing tone, Meg returned her gaze to Clarence. Clare, who was whiter than Jude had ever seen him, didn't move a muscle. He only stood by the table and blinked at the woman with a twinge of fear in his eyes. Jude made sure to shift himself slightly in front of Meg, lessening her access to Clare as he watched her reach into her jacket and retrieve the bottle and paper.

“Did – did _you_ leave this for me?” she breathed, her voice so hollow that it was barely audible.

Clare's wide eyes glanced down at the familiar items and instantly shot back up to look at Jude. Though no words were spoken between them, Clare and Jude knew they were thinking the same thing. They were remembering the day, only months prior, that they ventured to Meg's bedside and left those things next to her. Though he was extremely cautious, Clare carefully nodded to answer Meg's question. The woman exhaled afterward and a tiny smile appeared on her face. Moisture was swelling in her eyes when she held the bottle to her chest.

“I – I just wanted to... to _thank you_ ,” she admitted, “You saved my life.”

A tear escaped her eye, painting a wet streak down the side of her face. Jude looked from Meg back to his fiance – and could see that Clarence was actually _smiling_. Jude was at a loss for words. After everything Meg put Clare through – abandoning him, rejecting him, calling him 'it,' forcing him to survive on his own – how could he still look at her and smile so genuinely?! Crowley seemed to be just as angered and confused as Jude, because the king of hell glared at Meg before disappearing in a wisp of black smoke. His sudden departure made everyone look toward the spot he had been standing in, where the black cloud was dispersing.

“Ah, balls. That ain't good,” Bobby mumbled under his breath.

With Crowley gone, everyone else was left to look amongst each other. Meg's attention slowly shifted from Clarence back to Bobby, who she looked at with honest confusion.

“I knew you were a good hunter, Singer, but _damn_. That was fast,” she smirked, gesturing between Bobby and Clare, “I'm, uh, guessing you all know each other?”

Again, Jude couldn't help but stare at Meg with suspicion. Something must have been wrong with her, otherwise she would have remembered seeing them all together under that bridge. She was acting like she didn't know Clarence at all, let alone that he was her son. Jude felt like grabbing her by the arm and giving her a stern reminder of all the things she put poor Clarence through.

Luckily, Jude didn't have to do anything. Because another puff of black smoke filled the left side of the kitchen, revealing Crowley and Rowena standing near the entrance of the study. Jude had never seen such concentrated rage on his aunt Rowena's face before. The short Scottish red-head bounded through the kitchen, clacking her high heels on the tile as she stomped straight toward Meg.

“ _You_!” Rowena hissed, repeatedly shoving Meg's shoulders and making her stumble backward, “Just who the hell do ya think ya are, bargin' into me son's home like this?! Chattin' to me wee lamb like nothin' ever happened?! Ya've gotta ripe pair of bawbags on ya to come struttin' in here without so much as a formal greeting! I should turn yer _guts into gravy_!”

Rowena had shoved Meg back so many times that the demon lady was now braced up against the kitchen door with wide eyes. Just before Rowena reached out to grab Meg by the throat, Bobby took hold of her wrist to stop her.

“Hey! No magic in the house,” he reminded sternly.

“What the hell is your problem?!” Meg asked Rowena, her eyes the size of golf balls.

“ _My problem_?!” Rowena gasped, her eyes alight with fury, “Yer the one who abandoned yer own son!” she paused to point toward Clarence behind her, “The wee lamb needed ya, and ya tossed him away like yesterday's trash! Well guess what, lass? He isn't yours anymore! He's _ours_ , now! And we'll defend him with our dyin' breath!”

Jude stood up straighter and nodded along with his aunt's firm statements. He was totally with Rowena on this one. At the mention of Clarence being her son, Meg's face skewed with confusion. With her hands raised in surrender of Rowena's threats, Meg's eyes darted between the witch and the blonde demon in the room.

“S – son?” she repeated in disbelief and confusion.

“Yes. Yer son. The one ya threw away,” Rowena barked, her slit-like eyes piercing into Meg, “Have ya forgotten him so easily? Have those drugs turned yer mind to mush? How could you forget rippin' him out of yer womb and throwin' him into a river?”

When Rowena's last words reverberated around the room, a sense of realization seemed to come over Meg's features. Her eyes widened slightly and briefly looked toward Clarence. Her hands slowly fell to the hem of her shirt, which she began to gather with her fingers. Everyone in the room watched as she lifted the front of her shirt up to reveal her bare stomach. It was sunken in and pale white, and her ribs were visible on either side. But there, curved near the top of her stomach, was a long, jagged scar. It was thick and dark pink, looking like it had taken a while to heal. But Jude found the scar oddly familiar. He knew the curvature of that line. He had seen it many times before, only in a larger size...

Meg raised her head to the room again, probably looking for more answers. Her sight eventually fell back to Clarence, who was still staring at her from the table. Upon meeting her eyes, Clare gulped and fidgeted his hands at his sides. After some internal debate, the blonde demon turned around and pulled the fabric of his shirt up to his neck, putting his bare back into view. There, drawn across the top of his shoulders, was the exact same line of scar tissue. Only, his had grown larger with his body. The miniature version was still on Meg's stomach, where it had been for at least twenty-four years. The mark was obviously caused by whatever sharp object Meg had used to cut Clare out of her womb. Except the blade had gone too deep and cut him, too...

When faced with this information, shock returned to Meg's expression. If at all possible, she turned even paler as she dropped her shirt again.

“H – how?” she gasped, shaking her head, “That's not possible. I don't – I don't remember any of that –”

“ _Bullshite_!” Rowena accused with another hard shove.

“I don't!” Meg argued.

“You lying _bitch_! I should _end you right now_!” Rowena threatened, lunging forward.

“ _Enough_!” Bobby boomed, reaching out to stop Rowena again, “I ain't cleaning blood off this kitchen floor again, dammit – Crowley? What the hell are you doin'?”

Jude, along with everyone else, turned to look toward the study. Crowley was standing in the doorway, holding his cell phone toward the rest of the group, recording a video of the event. He looked up when Bobby called his name, acting like he didn't understand what was wrong.

“What?” he asked innocently, “Am I not allowed to document this moment for future enjoyment? It's not every day I get to watch my mother ruthlessly murder someone. Besides, my Instagram followers would love to see -”

“Put the phone away or I'll shove it up yer demonic ass,” Bobby warned in a harsh tone.

Though he seemed annoyed, Crowley rolled his eyes and did what Bobby asked. In the aftermath of the brief distraction, Rowena seemed to have calmed down slightly. She crossed her tiny arms and glared into the face of Clare's birth mother.

“How dare you even step foot in this house. What the bloody hell are ya even doing here?” she snipped.

Though insults were being flung at her from all corners, Meg remained calm enough to explain.

“Look, I just wanted to find him and thank him for what he did,” she confessed, sounding honest as she gestured toward Clare.

“Oh? And what did he do? Spit it out,” Rowena pressed, tapping her high heel against the floor.

“He saved my worthless life, okay?” Meg spat, pulling out the bottle again.

The sight of the empty potion bottle made Rowena's delicate eyebrows lift. Her arms unwound and fell to her sides before she reached out to snatch the glass container from Meg.

“Ah, no,” she groaned, turning around to give Clarence a look of disappointment, “Ya gave that potion to _her_? Why would you do that, love?”

Though Clare opened his mouth, no sound came out. He only stood speechless by the table, unable to look away from his birth mother.

“What's so special about this potion?” Bobby openly asked.

“It was a detox agent,” Crowley explained, “Mother brewed it in case our boy fell off the wagon and started using again.”

“I infused it with Deathbell, which is known to cause a touch of amnesia if too much is consumed at once,” Rowena added, turning to thrust the empty bottle back into Meg's hands, “It wasn't supposed to be taken all in one bloody go. Guess ya didn't have the sense to go easy on it, did ya, greedy wench? No wonder you don't have any idea who the lad is. Yer lucky to remember how to walk properly, ya stupid sow.”

Meg gave Rowena a flat look as she shoved the bottle back into her pocket.

“Okay. I get it. You don't like me. No need to waste your breath with the high school insults,” the lady demon said calmly, “... But you're right. I don't remember much. Just... Just laying on a floor, watching two men fight over killing me,” her eyes lifted to look at Clarence across the room again, “He wanted you to do it. But you didn't. You fought for me when no one else would. I was glad you won.”

Jude knew that Meg was referring to the night Caldwell tried to get Clare to kill her. Other than the parts he was there for, Jude only knew what Clarence had told him about it. At the mention of saving his mother, Clare's cheeks blushed a little and he looked – kind of proud. Jude was glad that his fiance was happy, but part of him worried. What if Meg got Clare's hopes up and then devastated him all over again? After the small look, Meg's eyes seemed to grow with desperation and she searched all the other faces in the room.

“Is there a way I could fix it?” she asked, looking back to Clare “Kid, if I gave birth to you, I want to remember it -”

“No you don't,” Crowley scoffed, shaking his head as he strutted forward, “After all the hardship, terror, and turmoil you've caused -”

“Wait,” Rowena interrupted.

There was a devilishly mischievous look in her eye as she raised her head to smirk at Meg.

“I believe this demon has a right to know what happened... What she's done,” the red haired witch purred, “I say we take her to Castiel and Gabriel and tell 'em to help the lass remember.”

“Castiel?” Meg repeated, her tone and expression filling with pleasant surprise, “Cas is still around?”

“Don't go getting your hopes up, she-devil,” uncle Crowley warned, “Castiel has been happily married to Dean Winchester for many years. You've been standing next to their son this whole time.”

Jude gulped as he felt Meg's eyes turn toward him. Ah, great, why did uncle Crowley have to point him out like that? Jude stole a timid glance up at Meg and could see that the news startled and upset her. But it seemed like Crowley was taking pleasure in knowing that he had caused her pain. In fact, it seemed like the whole room was divided. Crowley and Rowena wanted to boarder line torture Meg both physically and mentally, while Bobby and Jude just wanted a civil conversation. There was only one person in the room who hadn't said a word to Meg, and his opinion was arguably the most important of all...

Although there were still a few sets of eyes on him, Jude made his way to the other side of the room to stand next to his fiance. Clare saw him coming and looked more and more relieved the closer he got.

“Clare,” Jude whispered, hoping the others wouldn't hear, “Are you okay?”

Though he was visibly shaken, Clare reached out to take Jude's hand and forced a nod. Rowena, who had followed Jude with her eyes, also looked to the blonde demon.

“What say you, Cherub?” she softly prompted, “Are ya comfortable with lettin' this lass stay long enough to learn the truth?”

Clare's pretty eyes traveled from Rowena back to his birth mother. Meg seemed eager, but respectful enough to wait on Clare's word. The two of them shared a look that Jude had a hard time deciphering.

“... Are you sure you wanna know what happened?” he eventually asked her.

Meg paused to swallow harshly.

“If you really are my... my _son_... then, yeah. I want to remember you,” she answered.

Clare shook his head.

“It's not pretty,” he warned.

Meg gave a sideways smirk – one that reminded Jude of the ones Clare wore sometimes.

“Life is never pretty, kid. That much I've learned the hard way,” she muttered.

“So have I,” Clare replied ominously.

Meg's smile slipped away when she heard the disdain in Clare's voice. In the meantime, all of the other adults in the room slowly started to migrate closer to Clare and Jude.

“So, we're in agreement?” Crowley asked, “Meg goes to the bunker to get her memories back?”

Clare nodded. He agreed with letting Meg learn everything that happened, but Jude wasn't so sure. What if she ended up hating Clare even more than she did before?

“Jude, can you fly us all there?” Bobby asked.

A twinge of panic flooded Jude's system. Oh boy, that was a lot of people to fly back to the bunker at once. But Clarence was included, so maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Jude forced himself to nod and everyone gathered around him. Rowena grabbed Meg's arm tight, Bobby held onto Rowena and Crowley, and Crowley placed his hand on Jude's shoulder. Clare, however, completely turned to wrap Jude's entire torso into a soft, tight hug. The angel could feel his fiance's warm lips press against the rim of his ear.

“The only person I really belong to is _you_ ,” Clare whispered.

With the heavy dose of affectionate love running through his veins, Jude circled his arm around Clare's back and flew the entire kitchen full of people to his underground home.

* * *

“... And after two whole years of clinicals, I finally took the test and got my RN degree. Along with a few bottles of vodka to celebrate,” Adam said, raising his glass with pride.

Everyone else at the table applauded, cheering for the youngest member present. Sam didn't know how long he had been sitting at the table in the bunker kitchen, chatting with Dean, Cas, Gabe, Adam, and Michael about every topic imaginable. But judging by how cold the food in front of them was, it had to have been at least a few hours. None of them wanted to stop talking to eat. They found comfort and joy in each others' companionship that Sam never dreamed possible. Having his younger sibling and Gabe's older sibling in the same room was actually fun. Adam and Michael had the same sarcastic, dry humor as the rest of the Winchesters, and it made for excellent conversation.

“Who's up for another round of drinks?” Gabe asked.

Michael and Adam gladly offered up their empty glasses, which Gabriel refilled with some whiskey from the liquor cabinet. The golden archangel also topped off Sam's glass with a wink, to which Sam rolled his eyes and grinned. Gabe was definitely trying to get him drunk for some reason.

“Dean, Castiel,” Michael said, “How long have you two been married?”

Of course, Dean and Cas looked to each other and smiled before answering.

“Well, Jude was five at the time. So, I think it's been about sixteen years, now,” Dean hummed, reaching up to hang his arm around Cas's shoulder.

“But we have been in a committed relationship for far longer than that,” Cas added, staring into his husband's eyes, “Right, Dean?”

Dean smirked and leaned over to peck the blue-eyed angel's lips with a quick kiss.

“Damn right,” he hummed.

“I married a moose the same day Cassie and Dean-o got married,” Gabriel shouted from the across the kitchen as he put the liquor away, “You know, in case anyone was wondering.”

“And what a long eighty years it's been,” Sam lovingly groaned.

Everyone at the table chuckled at Sam's little joke. He expected Gabriel to fire back with an equally cheeky retort. But in response, the blonde archangel simply flew himself into Sam's lap, hooking an arm around his neck and raising a glass to the rest of the table.

“Here's to finding true love and never letting it go,” Gabe sang, “and even killing Death itself to keep it.”

“To love,” everyone repeated.

Just as the six guys tipped their glasses to drink, Sam caught something appearing out of the corner of his eye. He lowered his glass and looked to the right to see a few familiar people now standing in his kitchen. Jude, Clare, Crowley, Rowena, and Bobby had popped into the room, probably flown there by Jude. But they weren't alone. There was a woman with them. It took Sam a few seconds of studying the person's face for him to realize who it was.

“ _Meg_?” Sam blurted.

The moment he mentioned her name, Meg turned to look toward the table – and Dean spewed his alcohol everywhere. Michael, Adam, Cas, and Gabriel all ducked away to avoid being covered in the fermented mist. After the commotion at the table, a few of the guys stood up to brush the liquid off their shirts and they noticed the rest of the people in the kitchen too. The two groups paused to stare at each other in silence for a minute, each confused to see the other. Rowena eventually walked toward the table and Sam could see that there was fire in her eyes.

“Angels,” she greeted sternly, “We have a job for you.”

Sam could hear someone asking what was going on, but for the moment, his attention was on Gabriel. The archangel had suddenly reached up to hold his head with one hand and stare at the table with a serious face. Sam hardly ever saw his husband without a smile, so he knew that something was probably wrong.

“Gabe, what is it?” Sam asked.

Gabe raised his hand, like he was trying to listen to something. But after a second, he looked back at Sam with anxiety in his honey eyes.

“Something's going on with the kids,” Gabe breathed.

The archangel didn't need to explain. Sam knew from the tone of his voice that Gabe was talking about _their_ kids. Jessica and Oliver. They were praying to Gabe. And something was wrong...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think it's safe to assume that, like a lot of the characters in this chapter, most of you will be divided on Meg's return. Some of you are probably hating it (rightfully so, considering how much damage she's done in this story), and some of you are probably really excited to see her (which is also understandable, because she is basically the same Meg we know from the show.) However you choose to look at it, I hope that you will give the story a chance to play out before judging it too harshly, because there are some pretty neat things on the way. ;) The most recent memory Meg has is of the night when Clare saved her. Other than that, she only remembers bits and pieces of the Apocalypse mess that took place before this entire fic began. I will say that, all things considered, there are a lot of similarities between Clare and Meg. For one, they both sought out the most capable hunters in the world to find each other. And both of them were holding onto notes and keep sakes from each other when they started their searches. Needless to say, Clare and Meg have a ton of things in common without even realizing it. ;) If there are any gamers out there (like me) you probably noticed the Elder Scrolls reference in this chapter. Deathbell is a plant/ingredient in Skyrim. Does it cause Amnesia? Probably not. But let's pretend that it does for story's sake. ;D And does any one know if Crowley actually has an Instagram account? Because if so, I want to follow him! XD (I'm sure Bobby is not pleased with his husband being involved in this internet hoopla.) ;D Guys, I really hope that you all enjoyed this chapter! Thank you so much for reading and commenting, and simply being the best readers in the world. I love each and every one of you! *hugs* The next chapter will be out soon! :)


	4. Chapter 4

Jessica and Oliver didn't make it to the Eiffel Tower.

After their ruined dinner – which neither of them ate, due to Jessica high-tailing it outside to vomit near a dumpster – they attempted the long walk from the Louvre. They even hailed a taxi to ride when their feet got tired. But two blocks away from the base of the tower, Jess felt sick again and demanded the driver to stop. She hopped out of the car just in time to puke again on the street curb. Oliver paid the driver and thanked him for the short ride, which kept his attention off the gross scene taking place outside. Then, it was just the two of them. Two newlyweds stranded in the middle of Paris; wife sick and husband worried. Jessie felt Ollie's hand on her shoulder before long.

“Jess, this is serious,” he whispered, gently shifting her wavy blonde hair out of the way so he could see her face, “It's only getting worse. I think it's time to call your parents.”

The thought of having to call Dad and Papa, and virtually end her honeymoon early, made Jessica's heartbreak. A sudden burst of emotions erupted inside her and she sobbed out loud, leaning against a nearby tree to stand upright.

“I'm sorry,” she huffed, too ashamed to look at Ollie's handsome face, “I – I didn't mean to ruin our honeymoon -”

“Aw, Jessie, it's not your fault,” Ollie instantly denied, gingerly wrapping an arm around her shoulder, “Besides, Paris isn't going anywhere. If we need to go home, we can always come back.”

Though she still felt awful, Jess raised her head a little and gave a single nod. Ollie was right. Paris would still be there when she felt better. And Jess _did_ want to feel better. Right now, it felt like she was getting sicker by the minute. Ollie nodded back before reaching down to take her hand in his loving grip.

“Are you feeling up to flying back to the hotel room? Or should I get another taxi?” he asked.

“No cars,” Jess denied, feeling queasy again, “I – I think I can fly.”

With his fire-orange hair tossing around in the cool evening breeze, Ollie put on a soft smile and took a step back, quietly waiting for Jess to fly. After wiping the corners of her mouth with her jacket sleeve, Jess took the time to stare up at her lovely husband and admire him for an extra second. Ollie was so patient and sweet. No one else would put up with Jess and her crazy life like the red-haired boy from the playground... Jess embraced her new husband with a soft hug before using her grace to transport them back to their hotel room a few miles away.

Jess and Ollie appeared in their honeymoon suit in seconds. The room was just the way they left it earlier. Bedsheets unmade, stuffed animals on the floor, clothes tossed everywhere, balcony doors open. But when Jess took her first deep breath, her eyes flew wide open. There was something in the room that smelled sugary and sweet. Something that smelled _absolutely delicious.._.

“What's that?” Ollie asked aloud.

Jess spun around to search for what her husband was talking about. Just near their hotel room door was a large silver cart. There were multiple covered dishes on the linen-covered tray, along with a little note on top. Jess and Ollie glanced toward each other before walking over to investigate the cart. Ollie picked up the note to read the printed text.

“Calabaza,” he began, pausing to share a look of understanding with Jess, “I called a bakery near your hotel and had them deliver some treats to your room. Enjoy the taste of Paris. Love Mom. PS, Please bring home your leftovers. They sound delicious.”

Jess giggled. Ah, leave it to Ms. Jane to do something nice and then ask for the leftovers. Jess couldn't blame her for wanting a piece. Paris was the food capital of the world, the birthplace of fine cuisine. And even though she had vomited upon seeing her dinner, Jessica felt like she was utterly starving at the moment. She reached over to lift up one of the metal lids and was met with the sight of a large, gooey, icing covered cinnamon roll. The sugary scent alone was enough to make her mouth water.

“Sorry about this,” Ollie sighed as he tossed the note back on the cart, “I didn't know mom was going to send us food, so if it makes you throw up again -”

Ollie's sentence stopped short when he turned to see Jessica scarfing down the cinnamon roll with her bare hands. The eager churning sensation in her stomach had propelled her to attack it and start eating, like a lioness on a gazelle. And once the sweet icing hit her tongue, Jess felt like she was having a sudden orgasm.

“ _Oh my God_ ,” she mumbled with her mouth full, tossing her head back, “This is _so good_!”

Jessica wasn't aware of anything else as she chomped her way through the fluffy, sticky pastry. The only thing she knew was that she needed to eat it as quickly as possible to appease the craving in her belly. When she eventually finished the cinnamon roll and started to lick her fingers, Jess noticed that her husband was staring at her. Ollie was giving her a strange look, like he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

“What?” Jess asked.

“N – nothing,” Ollie mumbled, “I just... I thought you had a stomachache...”

“I did. But I guess I was just hungry,” she shrugged.

Ollie's cocoa eyes narrowed.

“You threw up after eating a carrot. And carrots are your favorite,” he reminded.

Instead of arguing with her skeptical husband, Jessica started to dig around and see what kind of other goodies were lurking among the metal trays. Chocolates, macaroons, cakes, pies, donuts, butterscotch candies – Jessica felt like she had fallen into one of her Papa's bedtime stories. It all looked so good! Which one was she going to start with? She wanted to eat it all at once! Jess decided to start with the tiny square cake bites and work her way in. She went through about six of them before looking back up to Ollie. He was still watching her with suspicion, like he was trying to figure out what was wrong with her. But Jess was just happy to feel better.

“Please stop looking at me like that,” she requested, her mouth still full, “I'm fine, see? We don't have to call my dads after all.”

Ollie took a second to think, as if he was considering whether to back down from his argument or not. But Jess knew just what to do to persuade him onto her side. She quickly slipped a macaroon between her lips before easing over to slide her arms around Ollie's waist, wearing a smirk the whole time.

“How about this,” she purred, purposefully batting her eyelashes up at him, “You help me eat everything on this dessert cart, and then I'll let you eat something else...”

It took a second for Oliver to realize what she was saying. But when he did, his face lit up as red as a stop light and his eyes popped wide open. He suddenly cleared his throat and looked away to hide a smile while Jessica giggled at him. Apparently, he forgot about what they were supposed to be doing on a honeymoon in the first place.

“Oh, that, uh, hmm,” Ollie stuttered, still unable to meet Jess's eyes, “That, um – that sounds like one hell of a plan. I'm actually in the mood for a Hot Pocket.”

Jess laughed out loud as she discretely reached over to grab another macaroon.

“Oh, so _that's_ why I saw you eying my pants earlier,” she winked.

Oliver's hardy laugh made Jess's stomach tingle with delight.

“Trust me, there's only _one_ pocket on my mind right now,” he smirked, “and it's not made of denim.”

Jess quickly finished chewing and swallowing her bite of pastry before craning her neck to meet Ollie's smiling lips. Their hands slowly ventured onto each others' bodies, seductively prodding and groping one another. Jess's fingers eventually found their way up into the tufts of Ollie's soft, fiery hair. And Ollie's hands slid under the hem of her shirt to caress her bare skin. Her jacket and shirt eventually slid off to reveal her torso with nothing but a bra – and that's when Ollie stopped. His mouth pulled away and he looked down at her body in confusion.

“Jess,” he breathed, “Wh – why are you glowing?”

Jessica pulled back long enough to see her husband's worried face before looking down at her own body. From her point of view, she could see her own cleavage, purple bra, and semi-flat stomach. And Ollie was right. Her skin was glowing gold; shining as if her grace was trying to get out. But most of it was centered around the bottom, underneath her belly button. The sight of so much of her grace being exposed made her fearful, because she couldn't fix it. No matter how much she tried to retract her grace internally, Jess couldn't get the glowing to stop. Her stomach had gotten five times brighter than the last time she saw it, but there was nothing she could do. Her grace had a mind of its own. And it scared her.

With a frightened exhale, Jessica quickly snatched her shirt back off the floor and tossed it on, barely smuggling the grace underneath. Once she had made herself decent, she closed her eyes and pictured her parents' faces in her mind.

“Papa,” she prayed, “I need your help.”

* * *

When Jessica's voice entered Gabe's head, it was so faint that he almost missed it. The bunker kitchen was mostly silent, due to the unannounced arrival of a few relatives and one _very_ unwelcome demon chick, so he was able to catch his daughter's prayer. But it was only one sentence.

 _Papa, I need your help_.

“Gabe, what is it?”

Sam's question brought the archangel back to the kitchen. Gabe raised his hand to his husband, waiting to see if he could hear anymore from their daughter, but Jess never said anything else. Gabe looked to Sam and searched his big moose face.

“Something's going on with the kids,” he explained.

Gabe wished he could provide a better, less vague answer, but he had nothing to go on except the worried tone he heard Jess pray in. Sam, being the caring and loving parent that he always was, immediately shifted into 'dad' mode. He stood Gabe up before climbing to stand with him and gather the attention of everyone else in the kitchen.

“Hey. Gabe and I have to go,” he announced.

“What? Ya can't leave!” Rowena angrily protested, pointing toward Meg, “The archangel has to dig out the memories of this diseased cow!”

The demon lady in question was standing next to Bobby and only rolled her eyes at Rowena's snide comment. Thankfully, Sammy stood his ground.

“Sorry, but it's Jess. We've gotta go check on her,” he explained.

Rowena's attitude instantly did a one-eighty spin. She went from angry witch to concerned aunt in two seconds flat. As did most of the other people in the room. Jude and Clare both leaned around Rowena to look at Sam and Gabe with worry in their young eyes.

“What happened?” Clare asked.

“Is she okay? What about Ollie?” Jude added.

“We don't know, kiddos. We're gonna go see,” Gabe comforted.

“Alright. Perhaps this other archangel can do the trick,” Rowena finally allowed, briefly gesturing to Michael, “Tell Jess that we're all thinkin' of her.”

“And if it is something serious, please contact us for aid,” Cassie added.

Gabriel and Sam both nodded to their distraught family before facing each other. As he had done countless times, Gabe grabbed onto his moose's large hoof and flapped them both out of the bunker. Gabe knew exactly where Jess and Oliver's honeymoon suite was, because he had been there the day before to tidy the place up and give it that 'homey' feel by placing their stuffed animals on the bed. In the blink of an eye, Sam and Gabriel left the bunker kitchen and appeared in the fancy hotel room.

Gabe's immediate concern was Jessica. The archangel instantly scanned the room until he found his daughter's blonde curls and pretty malachite eyes. She was standing near the foot of the bed near Oliver, and both of them looked extremely on edge. Their pale faces and downward mouths were enough to make Gabriel feel like a worried mom.

“I'm here,” the archangel exclaimed, quickly walking over to assess his daughter, “I'm here, baby bunny. What's the matter? Did someone try to break in? Is this hotel haunted? Was there a ghost? I'll kick its translucent ass, I don't care -”

“No, Pop,” Jess interrupted, “There's something wrong with my grace.”

“Your grace?” Sam repeated, inching closer into the group.

“Yeah. It – it won't put itself away. And it keeps making me sick,” she tried to explain.

Gabe swallowed harshly as he shared a quick look of equal fear with his husband. The last thing any parent wants to hear is that their child is ill. But grace? That was a different ball game altogether. And it was especially troubling since Jessica _never_ had problems with her grace. Jude was always the one who couldn't quite figure out the angel thing, but Jessie? She was practically a full angel! How could she be having issues out of the blue?

“Let's start at the beginning,” Sam suggested, “Jess, when did you notice a difference?”

Their daughter took a second to look around, holding her hand against her stomach the whole time.

“Well, this morning, it felt like I had to puke,” she explained, “but nothing came out. I just felt really sick to my stomach. Then, when we ate dinner, I really _did_ puke -”

“Don't forget the mood swings,” Ollie timidly squeaked.

Jessica shot her ginger husband a glare that could have killed him.

“I didn't have mood swings!” she spat, “Why would you say that? Because I cried at the Mona Lisa? _Is it a crime to get emotional over artwork, Oliver? No, it's not!_ ”

Gabriel took a step back and shared another look with Sammy. Oh boy. Poor Ollie was right. Jessica was definitely having mood swings. In an effort to keep Jess from murdering her new husband on their second day of marriage, Gabe attempted to shift the conversation back on track.

“Okay, Jessie-rabbit. So, your grace made you throw up at dinner?” he prompted.

“Yes,” Jessica said, turning back to her parents, “but, when we got back here, we saw that Jane had ordered us some desserts from a local bakery. And, Papa, they're _sooo_ good! The macaroons are the best!”

“But you didn't vomit after that?” Sam pointed out.

Jessica shook her head.

“So, you're not sick at your stomach anymore?” Gabe asked.

“Well, I'm not sick, but...” Jess trailed off.

She fiddled with the bottom of her shirt for a second before carefully raising it up. Gabriel looked down to his daughter's exposed stomach – and an odd sense of deja-vu came over him. Jess's tummy was actively glowing with golden grace, shining like a warm jack-o-lantern. And there was only one other time in his life that Gabriel ever saw golden grace glow from a stomach the same way... and that was his _own_. When he was pregnant with Jessica.

Several emotions flew through Gabe's body in an instant, ranging from nostalgia, to excitement, to worry, and finally landing on absolute _joy_. Jessica wasn't sick. She was _pregnant_! She and Ollie had made _a baby_ together, on their first night of being married! There was an even tinier, babier bunny inside Jessie's stomach! She was going to be a _mommy_! Ollie was going to be a _daddy_! _And Sam and Gabe were going to be grandparents!_ With his mouth adorned with a wide grin and eyes already leaking tears, Gabe turned to look up at his husband. Realization had already dawned on the moose too, because all the color had drained from his face. Sam looked like a shocked, ghostly version of himself. But Gabe couldn't have been any happier.

Jessica and Oliver seemed to take Gabe and Sam's reactions as a bad sign. The fright on Jess's face deepened as she glanced between her own stomach and her parents' faces.

“Wh – what is it?” she asked, “Papa, is it bad?”

To make sure his assumption was right, Gabe stepped forward and gently slid his hand over Jess's bare stomach. He met her grace with his own, letting it shine from his fingers and move freely through hers. Gabe could feel there, lodged on the left edge of her uterine wall, was a tiny little bundle of rapidly multiplying cells. A fetus, just starting to bloom. It took Gabe another second to find his own voice, because it was lost somewhere between frenzied excitement and utter astonishment. And when he eventually spoke, it came out wheezy and full of joy.

“No,” he breathed, shaking his head as he slid his hands up to hold his daughter's shoulders, “Honeydew, you're _pregnant_!”

At first, it seemed like Jess didn't want to believe him. She shook her head and glanced toward Sam, as if she was looking for a second opinion. But then, the cogs slowly started to turn behind her eyes.

“P – Pregnant,” she exhaled, “But I... I can't be. I never saw it in any dreams...”

“Dreams or no dreams, sweetheart, you've got _a baby_ in there!” Gabe rejoiced.

Hearing the word 'baby' being said out loud seemed to bring Jessica full circle. She blinked a few times before tears rose up in her eyes, accompanied by a look of stunned awe.

“A baby,” she repeated, smiling as a few tears slipped from her eyes, “My – my first baby. It's a baby! Papa, I'm gonna have _a baby_!”

Jessica and Gabriel both squealed with joy as they reached out to hug each other. Gabe held his daughter close to his own heart, feeling wave after wave of emotion hit him from all sides. He always hoped that this would happen – that Jess could find the same happiness of being a parent that he had with her – and now that the day had arrived, he couldn't help but be overwhelmed with feelings.

The other two people in the room, however, were not as jubilant as Gabe and Jess. Sammy was still speechless, standing like a weather-worn beanpole jutting out of a forgotten field. Oliver, on the other hand, was suddenly moving and talking a mile a minute.

“Wait, no, that – that can't be right,” the nervous ginger denied, “I mean, I don't think it's, um, possible for Jess to be, er, p – pregnant. We, um... See, we were just 'intimate' last night, and uh, I'm not sure it would have even had time to, um... What I'm saying is, she, uh, she can't be pregnant because, well, she – you, you can't be pregnant, Jess. There's just no way -”

Gabe paused Ollie's rambling by letting go of Jess long enough to step over and wrap his son-in-law into a giant hug.

“Congrats, pumpkin head!” Gabe sang, patting the kid on the back, “I always knew you had it in ya!”

“But, Mr. Gabe! This can't be happening!” Ollie squeaked in the archangel's tight grasp.

“Oh, it's happening, kiddo,” Gabe assured, “In about seven days, you're gonna be a daddy!”

“ _Seven days?!_ ” Jessica and Oliver blurted together in horror.

Gabe nodded, looking between the two kids with pride.

“Yep,” he answered, “With that grace of yours, honey, that lil' baby is gonna grow thirty times faster than normal. Don't you remember me telling you that?”

Jessica gulped and finally lowered her shirt.

“Well, yeah. You said it was fast, but not _that_ fast!” she exclaimed.

For a second, it seemed like Oliver was gonna fall over, so Gabriel reached out to steady him with a gentle hand. The kid looked like he had been punched in the groin and dunked in arctic water.

“S – s – seven days?” Ollie stuttered in confusion.

“Well, that's how long it usually takes for angel-human babies,” Gabe explained, “It's because of the grace. It's got all those healing properties and light, so it speeds up the – Oliver? Stay with me, kid.”

Gabe snapped his fingers in front of Ollie's glazed brown eyes. The poor guy looked like he was on the verge of passing out. Luckily, the sound of Gabe snapping kept him alert enough not to take a nose dive into the floor. He remained upright with his stare fixed on Jess's stomach. Jess seemed to notice that her husband was having a difficult time with the news, because she raised her hand over the spot he was staring at.

“Ollie, it's gonna be okay,” she hummed, “I know it's a little shocking, but -”

“A little shocking?” Ollie huffed, “Jess, I still sleep with a stuffed unicorn! I can't be _a dad_!”

“Sure you can!” Gabe corrected, “It'll take some getting used to, but you can do it, Ollie-pop! You just need some time to get the right perspective. Isn't that right, Sammy?”

Everyone turned to look at the silent giant in the room. Gabe hoped that since Sam had a hard time with becoming a dad a long time ago that he could shed some light on the situation for Oliver. Sam was still pretty pale, but a touch of color had returned to his cheeks. His big eyes drifted from Gabe and Oliver back to Jessica, where he looked from her shiny shirt back to her lovely face. And then something happened that Gabriel didn't expect... Sam actually _smiled_. Gabe watched, his heart nearly bursting with delight, as Sam slowly stepped over to wrap his long arms around their daughter.

“I'm so happy for you, baby girl,” he breathed.

Jess giggled, causing a few more tears to streak down her cheek and soak into Sam's shirt as she hugged him back. Gabe grinned at the exchange, feeling so proud. He and Sam had spent a few nights through the years talking about what it would be like when Jess and Ollie started having kids. Of course, neither of them imagined that it would happen so soon, but it seemed like those talks had softened Sam up to the idea. Sammy had been braced for so long that he had nothing but happiness for their daughter now, and she was equally happy to share it with him.

Gabe felt like he was on the verge of exploding. There was so much to do and so little time to do it! Why in the world were they still standing in Paris?

“Guys, we've gotta get back to the bunker,” Gabe realized out loud, “We've gotta get a place ready in the infirmary for the delivery – Oh! We've gotta call Jane! And tell the family! Holy shit, they're gonna freak out! And we've gotta start getting the baby stuff! We'll need a crib, and highchair, and -”

“Diapers,” Sam raised his head to add, “So many diapers... Oh man, where are we going to put all of this stuff?”

“What if there's no room?” Jess asked, her voice high with panic, “What if we all can't fit in the bunker -?”

“Don't you worry your pretty head, Jessie-rabbit, we'll make room,” Gabe promised, gathering the group together, “Come on, let's go.”

“W – wait,” Oliver mumbled, “What about – what about our honeymoon?”

Gabriel and Jessica both looked to the ginger with bewilderment. How in the world could Ollie think about salvaging his honeymoon at a time like this?

“Ollie, we're gonna have a baby in seven days,” Jessica reminded bluntly, “Paris isn't going anywhere, remember?”

“Yeah, but I – I had a surprise for you,” he admitted softly, looking sad, worried, and terrified all at once.

Jessica reached over to hook her arm around Ollie's while Gabe and Sam rushed around the room to grab the kids' luggage.

“Oliver, I appreciate the gesture, I really do. But I think our first child takes precedence,” Jess replied frankly.

Gabe grabbed Oliver's suitcase, tossing his stray clothes and the two stuffed animals from the floor into the bag, before getting back to the group. Sam, with Jess's suitcase in hand, wrapped one arm around Jess and offered his free hand to Gabe with a smile. Gabriel was genuinely pleased to see the giddiness on his husband's face. He was so glad that Sammy was on board with this. The only person they really needed to worry about was Oliver, who still looked on the verge of fainting.

With his little family – and unborn grandchild – all bundled together, Gabriel popped them all from Paris back to the bunker in an instant. Within seconds, they were standing inside the kitchen, where there was still a crowd of people. Cas, Dean, Michael, and Adam were talking with Jude, Clare, Bobby, Crowley, Rowena, and Meg. And seeing all of their faces reignited the excitement in Gabe's body. He let go of Sam so that he could grab Jess and Ollie and fly them on top of the kitchen table. Consumed with pride, the archangel clung to his son-in-law and glowing daughter and whistled loudly, making everyone look up at them.

“Hey, Winchesters! Jess and Ollie have some great news!” Gabe sang.

He offered the spotlight to the newlyweds, who seemed momentarily fearful of all the attention. But then, Jess smiled at all her relatives, curled her hands around her glowing stomach, and glanced at her terrified husband before breaking the news.

“We're gonna have a baby,” she announced warmly.

Gabriel beamed as gasps and exclamations came from all over the room. Jaws dropped and shouts of 'no way!' and 'what?' came from various people. Rowena, however, nearly knocked Crowley over to get to the table and pull Jessica down into her tiny arms. Jude and Clare waded through the crowd to get to her side, too.

“Oh, my sweet lil' cherub!” Rowena sang, reaching down to place her hand on Jess's stomach, “That didn't take long at all! And look at ya! Yer already glowin'!”

“Jess, you're really pregnant?” Jude asked.

“Already?” Clare added, “You just got married, like, twenty-four hours ago.”

“I know,” Jess nodded, “I guess it just works fast for angels or something.”

Across the room, the distinct sound of Dean's long-suffering sigh infiltrated the cheerful atmosphere.

“Does anybody _else_ have any life altering news to share while we're at it?” the eldest Winchester prompted with his hands on his hips as he looked around the room.

“Well, I had an exceptionally pleasant bowel movement this morning. Does that count?” Crowley mentioned, his tone full of sarcasm.

Dean only glared at the demon king, seeming fed up with having so many people in his kitchen. Gabe felt a hand on his shoulder and turned around to see Sammy staring down at him.

“You might want to call and tell Jane before she hears it from someone else,” he pointed out.

Gabe winked up at his hubby before reaching into his pocket for his cell phone.

“Good call, moose,” he praised as he dialed her number, “By the way, you seem kind of... okay with all of this. Did you sneak yourself a sedative before we went to Paris or something?”

Of course, Gabe was joking. He just wanted to know why his husband was so chill with becoming a grandpa. Sam laughed a little, shaking his head while Gabe listened to Jane's phone ring.

“After that cherry pie scare, I pretty much came to terms with it,” Sammy admitted, turning to look toward their daughter, who was still being praised by their family, “and as long as she's happy, I'm happy.”

Gabe grinned up at his sexy husband, feeling tingles all over his skin. Sam Winchester truly was a special breed...

“Hola, Gabriel,” Jane's voice sang over the phone.

“Hey chica,” Gabe replied, “Are you sitting down?”

“Si. I am driving home from dropping off mi familia at the airport. Why?” she asked.

Driving? Uh-oh. Gabe hoped that she wouldn't crash her car after hearing about the baby...

“Well, I just wanted to call and tell you the good news,” he said.

“What good news?” she asked.

“Sam and I just got back from Paris and... Well, you're gonna be an abuela!”

“What?” she said, like she thought she didn't hear him correctly.

“Jessica is pregnant,” Gabriel spelled out, “Sam and I just went and picked up the kids. They're gonna have a baby!”

The inhuman squeal that came across the phone was so loud that Gabriel had to pull it away from his face to keep it from hurting his ears. A string of joyous Spanish ramblings followed, during which Sam and Gabriel laughed together. After a few seconds of freaking out, Jane calmed down enough to speak properly again.

“A baby! Oh, a baby!” she sang, “My calabaza is to have a child! I must speak with him, Gabriel! Please, put Oliver on!”

“Sure thing, Jane,” Gabe replied.

The archangel turned toward the table to hold the phone out to Oliver – but the kid was gone. Gabe spun back around and searched the crowd, scanning each and every person, but Oliver's freckled face wasn't among them. Where did the kid go? Sam seemed just as perplexed as Gabe, because he waved his hand over the crowd.

“Hey,” he called, “Where's Oliver?”

Everyone in the kitchen paused to look among the room, but none of them seemed to know where Ollie was either. It was like the ginger kid just up and disappeared. Jessica's worried eyes soon found their way to her parents, who both looked at each other with concern.

Yikes. This wasn't good...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hooray! There's a new addition to the Winchester clan on the way! :D I think most of you saw that coming, though, didn't you? ;D Don't worry too much, sweethearts. Ollie is just pulling a Dean Winchester at the moment. The kid just needs a little time to gain the right perspective. (Eh? Eh? Perspective? Get it?...Okay, I'll stop.) XD I know that this pregnancy announcement seems to have thrown the 'Meg' thing and Judence wedding off the rails, but no worries. Everything will be worked out. In the meantime, we have a new lil baby to look forward to! :D I hope that Sam's relaxed reaction isn't too out of character for this story. I just figured that ever since Jess and Ollie got engaged, he has been bracing himself for the eventuality of becoming a grandpa. And now, he's pretty much excited. (How's that for character development? Lol) ;D I really hope that all of you enjoyed this emotional chapter! Thank you so much for taking the time to read this ridiculous story. I owe you guys so much. You provide me with so many sweet comments and happiness each week. I love you all! :) The next chapter will be out soon! :)


	5. Chapter 5

Sam took a deep and bracing breath as he looked around at all the people in his kitchen. His ginger son-in-law was nowhere to be seen, which made everyone – especially Jessica – worried. But Sam knew that the kid couldn't be far. Oliver had just been in the kitchen and, unlike the angels, he couldn't fly. So he must have been in the bunker somewhere.

“Ollie?” Jess called.

Of course, the kid didn't answer. And soon, Jess was bombarded with questions and praises from Rowena, Crowley, Adam, Michael, and the others. In the meantime, Gabriel spun back around to give Sam a stern look.

“You've gotta find that kid, Sammy. Dad only knows what he's doing,” the archangel instructed.

Sam held down a smirk. He knew exactly what the kid was doing. Oliver was panicking, like every first-time parent does when they find out they're gonna be responsible for the well-being of a new tiny baby. The only question was, _how_ was Ollie panicking? Was he planning to get drunk? Hide? Run away? None of those scenarios sounded very safe if he was alone.

“Don't worry. I'll find him,” Sam assured.

Gabe, who was still holding his cell phone to his chest with Jane on the other line, nodded and brought the phone back to his ear.

“Sammy just went to get him,” Gabe told Oliver's mom, “You want to talk to Jess instead?”

Sam watched his husband shove his small body through the crowd surrounding Jessica before shifting around the room. Before he went off in search of Oliver, Sam knew there was one person who would probably be able to find and offer better advice than he could. And that was the man who had done the exact same thing decades earlier.

“Dean,” Sam called, finally reaching his older brother near the table, “You've gotta help me find Oliver.”

It only took one glance for Sam to realize that Dean was currently pissed. His head was tilted down, his jaw was clenched, and he was glaring into the crowd with enough heated rage to start a fire with his eyes. His angered sight darted to Sam when he spoke and only lightened a little.

“I don't know if you've noticed, but there's a _freaking demon_ in my house,” he barked, not caring whether anyone else heard him or not.

Although there were about three different demons standing in the kitchen, Sam knew that Dean was referring to Meg. The dark haired woman was tangled up in the crowd surrounding Jess, looking utterly confused by everything taking place. Honestly, Sam had no idea why she was there. And although he was curious about it, he knew that there was a more pressing issue to take care of first.

“Yeah, I get that,” Sam nodded, “but we have to find Oliver before he does something stupid.”

“Then go find him! I have a child-abandoning bitch to salt and burn,” Dean growled back.

Sam reached out to grab his brother's arm before the guy could get away.

“Dean, stop it. I really need your help,” he pleaded.

“Why the hell do you need _my_ help?!” Dean spat.

Sam paused to narrow his eyes and plant his hands on his hips.

“Gee, I don't know, who was it that took off in his Impala and disappeared for a whole night when he found out that his angel was pregnant?” he mentioned, laying the sarcasm on as thick as he could, “Don't you think that guy could offer Oliver some good advice right about now?”

At the mention of his own past deeds, Dean grimaced and rolled his eyes.

“Oh, for Chuck's _sake_ , will anyone ever let me live that down?!” he groaned, “Fine! I'll talk to the damn kid!”

Dean shoved his way toward the hall, but paused when they reached Jude and Clarence on the outer rim of the crowd. The oldest Winchester grabbed his son by the arm and tugged him close to talk into his ear.

“Keep your eyes on Meg. Don't leave her alone with anyone. _Especially_ not your Papa,” he instructed.

Jude nodded to confirm his duty, seeming equally suspicious of the female demon in the room. Sam had no idea why Dean was acting so angry and anxious. It was only Meg. They had dealt with her before and they could do it again if she got out of line. With his son on 'Meg watch', Dean finally made his way out into the hall with Sam behind him.

“Let's split up. I'll check the study and Jess's room,” Sam suggested.

“I'll take the garage,” Dean grumbled.

The older Winchester stomped down the corridor in one direction while the younger took off in the other. Sammy honestly had no idea which way Oliver went. He just called out the kid's name a few times as he jogged down the tiled halls, searching for the signature red hair. He looked down every aisle of bookshelves in the study before racing back to check his daughter's bedroom, which was also empty.

The more he looked for Oliver, the more concerned Sam became. He knew from personal experience how difficult it was to get used to the idea of having a kid and being a dad. But Ollie was missing the big picture. The poor kid was forgetting how amazing it was going to be to have a little family of his own; to look down into a child's face and see his own eyes staring back at him. One of the greatest treasures Sam had ever been blessed with was being able to look at Jessica and see not only her, but himself and Gabe, too. What would it take to get Oliver to realize that?

After searching various bedrooms, the dungeon downstairs, and the upper control room, Sam was nearly out of options. He started to wonder if Oliver had ducked out the front door and attempted to walk home in the dark. As Sam was on his way to check that very option, a flash of white darted out in front of him and he nearly stepped on it. Sam sighed when he looked down to see Dickie jumping up at his legs, wanting attention.

“Not now, boy. I'm trying to find Oliver,” Sam politely said, reaching down to pat Gabe's dog once.

As if he had been given a command, Dickie barked a few times and took off down the hall. He paused again at the end to bark and wag his tail excitedly. The dog was obviously trying to point something out. Knowing that Dickie was good at finding things, Sam hoped that he might have located Oliver. The tall man jogged back down the hall to see Dickie pawing at the door of the storage closet, where the Winchesters kept their cleaning supplies. Sam carefully turned the knob and let the door swing open to reveal Oliver sitting on the floor next to the mops and brooms.

The excitable Jack Russell Terrier dashed inside, racing up to catapult himself into Oliver's lap and start licking the kid's face. The tiny closet wreaked of pungent alcohol, as there was an open bottle of vodka in Oliver's hand. Sam sighed in disgust. Wow. Twenty minutes after finding out Jess was pregnant and Oliver was already hitting the hard liquor... Without looking up, Oliver took a swig of vodka – which he probably stole from the Winchester's liquor cabinet – and proceeded to hold the collar of his own shirt down, exposing the center of his chest.

“Alright, you found me. Go ahead and shoot. Just make it fast,” Oliver mumbled.

Sam shook his head in bewilderment. Shoot? Did Ollie think Sam was really going to shoot him?

“What?” the older man asked.

“I knocked her up. I knocked up your daughter,” Ollie slurred, “So now you gotta kill me.”

Sam stifled a small chuckle. Wow. Ollie was taking this thing way too seriously...

“Oliver, I stood there and watched you marry her a couple of days ago,” Sam reminded, “Why would I kill you for having kids together?”

Oliver let go of his shirt and sighed, reaching over to pick the bottle of vodka back up for another drink as he looked toward the wall.

“Because I'm not gonna be a good dad,” the kid huffed.

Sam rolled his eyes. Yep. He had seen this before. Hell, Sam had _felt_ this before. And he was definitely gonna need reinforcements to clear this mess up. Sam stepped out of the closet long enough to shout down the hall.

“Hey, Dean, he's down here,” the man called.

Sam kept an eye on Oliver as he waited for his older brother to join them. Dickie was happily licking away at Oliver's cheek and ear, probably trying to kiss away the pain on his face. But it wasn't working. Ollie was a broken man, sitting on the floor next to an empty mop bucket like he belonged there. Luckily, Dean finally rounded the hall and came up to look down at Oliver with a touch of pity mixed with annoyance.

“What the hell are you doing on the floor, kid?” Dean asked, “And where the hell did you get that vodka? It better not be from our stash. I paid good money for that.”

Oliver gulped nervously and put the lid on the bottle before sliding it away.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, “I just needed to wash down the shame.”

“Shame? What shame? You don't have anything to be ashamed about,” Dean spat, hands on his hips, “You got Jessica pregnant. That's great. That's no reason to get drunk in our supply closet. We all knew it was going to happen some day -”

“Yeah, _some_ day,” Oliver repeated, “Not _today_! I can't have a kid! I still watch cartoons!”

“So do I! And I'm twice your age!” Dean shouted back, “That has nothing to do with being a parent!”

“Well I don't know how to be a parent! My dad didn't teach me anything except baseball!” Ollie yelled.

“Well mine taught me _less_ than that! _That doesn't make you special, Oliver!_ _Get over it_!” Dean boomed.

At Dean's harsh words, Oliver bit his bottom lip and tilted his head away, looking like he was on the verge of tears. Sam turned to glare at his loud, unsympathetic brother. Dean was such a jerk! This was _not_ how Sam wanted the conversation to go! Thankfully, Dean seemed to realize how hostile his own words had been because he huffed a breath and took a second to calm down. He inched his way into the tiny room and slid down the wall to sit adjacently to Oliver, picking up the nearby vodka and taking a drink himself.

“Sorry, kid... I didn't mean that,” Dean mumbled, partly glancing toward his nephew-in-law, “I've got no right to say that to you – because I've been in your shoes. Only, instead of hiding in a closet, I took off in my Impala.”

Oliver's head raised a tiny bit. Dickie had finally settled down and was now laying in the kid's lap, quietly listening to the calmer conversation. And Ollie's hand rested on the dog's back as he looked to Dean.

“You did?” he gently prodded.

“Yep,” Dean answered, taking another swig, “We found out Cas was pregnant with Jude, and I picked up my keys and drove. Downed a whole bottle of whiskey and spent the night in my car. Convinced myself that I couldn't do it.”

Oliver searched Dean's face, like he couldn't believe that Dean had trouble figuring out the 'parent' stuff, too.

“What made you come back?” Ollie eventually asked.

Sam watched a tiny smile surface on his older brother's face.

“I had a dream about Cas... and our kid,” he admitted fondly, “Imagining them – all of us – together made it all just click...”

Dean's face softened considerably before he reached over to pat Oliver's bent knee.

“Oliver, I've known you for most of your life,” Dean reminded, “Believe me when I say that there isn't a doubt in my mind that you're gonna be a great father. Yeah, it's happening all of the sudden and you probably feel like you can't do it. But I promise you can. All you gotta do is give it your best shot.”

Sam smiled down at his brother, glad that Dean was finally being kind. But there was still hesitation in Ollie's features.

“But,” Oliver huffed, “my dad -”

“Screw your dad,” Dean interrupted, shaking his head, “He doesn't have any part in this. Your dad might have been a bad parent to you, but that doesn't mean that _you_ will be a bad parent. Sam and I are living proof of that... And in case you didn't notice, Eddie's not the only dad you've got.”

Dean gestured between himself and Sam, and Sam beamed down from the door frame with pride. Dean was absolutely right. They had always claimed Oliver as their own kid; taught him so many life lessons, right along with Jess and Jude. Even now, they were still there, making sure the kid was gonna be alright. The realization finally sunk in and Oliver smiled at the two Winchesters in awe.

“Thanks, you guys,” he muttered, softly patting Dickie's back as he sat there with a red face, “I – I don't know what to say... I'm just scared, I guess. I don't really know how to take care of a – a baby.”

“We'll help you with it,” Sam assured, “Trust me, Gabe's probably not gonna leave Jess's side for a while. You've got nothing to worry about.”

Oliver finally seemed to take the words to heart. He nodded and stroked the dog in his lap a few times, seeming unsure of how to phrase his thoughts.

“I really appreciate you guys being there for me... Honest,” he reminded.

“Don't mention it, kid,” Dean replied, screwing the cap back on the bottle of liquor, “Now, can we please get out of here? I spent the first part of my life in a closet. I ain't doing it again.”

A genuine smile finally spread across Ollie's face as he slid Dickie out of his lap.

“Yeah,” he agreed, “I've gotta go check on Jessie.”

Sam grinned again as he watched his son-in-law stand up and offer a hand to Dean. After Ollie helped Dean up, Sam backed out of the way to let them out, reaching up to rest his hand on the Oliver's shoulder as he passed by.

“I'll join you,” Sam offered, “Gabe's probably annoying her to death...”

* * *

To say that Clare was feeling overwhelmed would have been the greatest understatement in history.

In less than an hour, his birth mother returned, said she wanted to thank him for saving her and that she wanted to remember him, and the group made it to the bunker just in time to hear that Jessica and Oliver were going to have a baby. There were so many people in the bunker kitchen, crowded around just like the emotions bunched up in Clare's chest. He was nervous, scared, and bizarrely glad to see his mom again, and equally excited for Jess and Ollie. But while he tried his best to congratulate Jess on her pregnancy, Clarence was electrically aware that Meg was only standing a few feet away.

Jude's blonde cousin was already glowing – like, _literally glowing_ – and proudly holding her barely-raised baby bump while the family swarmed her with affection. Clare figured that Oliver would knock her up eventually and their honeymoon must have been perfect timing. Even Bobby and Crowley seemed happy for her; hugging her and telling her how beautiful she looked with the golden glow. Clare wanted to fight his way through the crowd and congratulate her himself – but Meg's staring eyes kept him from moving. He didn't know whether it was from fear of being judged by her or the tender remembrance of what happened between them before, but whatever the reason, Clare felt paralyzed by her attention.

Luckily, Clarence wasn't the only person she kept staring at. Her eyes moved between him, Jude, and Castiel, the oldest of which made his way through the crowd to get to his son.

“Jude,” Cas said loudly over the rest of the chatter, reaching out to clutch Jude's shoulder, “Gabriel and I are going to give Jessica a quick assessment to see how her pregnancy is progressing. Please take Meg to the study and keep her there until we can get everyone else settled enough to figure out what to do next. Can you do that for me, son?”

“Yes,” Jude instantly agreed.

Cas nodded and proudly patted Jude's shoulder.

“I'll meet you there as soon as I can,” the angel promised.

When Cas started to wade back through the crowd, Jude took a second to look back at Clare. Clarence tried his best to hide the anxiety he was feeling about having Meg around, putting on a brave smirk as he stared back at Jude's lovely blue eyes and adorable freckled face.

“Are you okay?” the angel asked.

“Yeah. As long as you're with me,” Clare spoke honestly.

The answer seemed to make Jude feel better. He reached down to reclaim Clare's hand before trudging around to get to Meg. Her eyes had followed Castiel through the crowd but turned to see them as they approached.

“Follow us,” Jude demanded bluntly.

Clare was actually surprised by the stern tone he heard come out of his fiance's mouth. Damn, Jude sounded like a boss just now. Where had all that authority and righteous force been hiding? Jude turned on his heel and walked out of the room, gently tugging Clare along behind him. The demon glanced back to see that Meg had stuck her hands in her pockets and was following them without a fight.

The bunker study was silent compared to the kitchen. The desk lamps lit the room with a soft glow, making the shelves of books and wooden chairs look extra inviting. The only sound in the room was the footsteps that the three people brought inside with them. Jude finally came to a stop near the first table, but Meg continued to slowly glide around, searching her unfamiliar surroundings.

Looking at Meg – watching the way her thick boots moved on the floor, her hair swayed around her shoulders when she turned her head, and the emotions change on her round face – made Clarence feel a strange sense of completeness. From the time he was a small child, he always wondered what his real mom looked like. And so far, she was almost exactly what he pictured; tall, slender, long wavy hair, pale skin, and outfits that would put a rockstar to shame. Hell, she was even wearing a leather jacket that was similar to the one she left with him, only this one was black instead of purple. Meg looked like the mom he always dreamed of having. It was too good to be true... right?

Clare firmly gripped his fiance's hand when Meg finally spun around to face them again. She seemed highly impressed by the room she was standing in. She withdrew a hand from her jacket pocket to gesture around.

“You _live_ here?” she asked.

Clare and Jude glanced toward each other, both unsure who the question was directed at. Maybe she was talking to both of them.

“I do,” Jude blurted, facing Meg again, “Clare doesn't.”

Meg visibly swallowed as she looked back to Clarence. Jude's answer seemed to make her curious.

“Your – your name is Clare?” she gently asked.

Clarence bit his bottom lip. Shit. She really forgot that? How was he supposed to explain his name to her?

“... Clarence,” he stated simply.

To Clare's surprise, Meg actually smiled. She hummed a tiny, hidden laugh and shook her head.

“That's, uh... pretty much perfect,” she mumbled.

Clare was confused. What the hell was so perfect about his name? She didn't even really give it to him. He got it from a love letter that she wrote to someone else...

“Why?” Clare blurted.

Meg took the time to lean against one of the tables, crossing her legs at the ankles and adjusting her hands in her pockets before answering.

“You ever see that black and white movie? 'It's A Wonderful Life?'” she asked.

Of course, Clare shook his head. He didn't watch many movies. Meg nodded once.

“It's about an angel, named Clarence, who's sent to save a guy,” she explained, “Stop him from killing himself. Give him a second chance. Show him that life's worth living... Sound familiar?”

Clare gulped. Hell yeah it sounded familiar. That was basically the story of Clare's life, only _Jude_ was the angel and _Clare_ was the guy that needed saving. But now that Meg mentioned it, Clare could see what she was trying to say. She was naming Clare the angel, because he gave her the power to save herself by leaving that potion behind. Somehow, Meg had unintentionally named him Clarence twice... A hint of woefulness seeped into her expression as they stared at each other.

“Look, I'm sorry if I interrupted your – your life,” she said, standing up off the table, “I didn't know that you were so close with the Winchesters. Or that you were even my... my kid,” she paused to gulp and shake her head, “Are you _really_ my kid?”

Clare nodded. If there was one thing branded into his memory like badly-healed scar tissue, it was the day he saw Meg's face for the first time. Besides, there was really no way for her to deny him, because their eyes and mouths looked exactly the same. Even their slouched posture mimicked each other. But the fact still left Meg confused.

“You're what? Nineteen?” she asked.

“Twenty-four,” Clarence corrected.

Meg's mouth briefly fell open.

“Twenty-four,” she repeated breathlessly, “How could I just forget twenty-four years? How could I forget _your face_? You'd think I'd be able to remember that. A hundred different ways to make a man beg for mercy? Sure. But my own kid's face? Not a bit... Maybe that yappy Scottish Chihuahua was right to wanna kick my ass...”

Clare let out a slight chuckle, which kind of surprised him. Was he really laughing at his own mother's joke? The small sound made the smile return to Meg's round face – and Clare was actually glad to see it. This was a lot nicer than he thought it would be. Talking with Meg like it was a normal evening was kind of pleasant.

“Rowena's mostly bark, not a lot of bite. You should be okay,” Clare mentioned.

“Ah. So, Crowley is basically a carbon copy of his mommy,” Meg smirked, “Thanks for the tip, Clare.”

Hearing his mother say his name like that – like she had known him all his life, like they were _good_ _friends_ – gave Clare an absurd amount of joy. Talking so freely and joking around with her was fun. In fact, it was something that Clare wanted to keep. Something he didn't want to jeopardize... The blonde demon turned to look at his fiance, who was still keeping a close watch on Meg.

“Maybe we shouldn't tell her,” Clare quietly suggested.

Jude's blue eyes widened and darted back to search Clare's face with alarm.

“What?” he breathed.

Clare shifted toward Jude to talk even lower, not wanting Meg to hear.

“I like her like this,” Clare admitted, “If she finds out what really happened, she might not want to stick around -”

“Clare, she has to know,” Jude argued.

“Why?” Clare gently shot back, “She knows I'm her kid. Isn't that all she _needs_ to know?”

“No, it's not,” Jude hissed, “She _hurt_ you, remember? She tried to _kill_ you when you were born!”

“That was a long time ago. Things are different now -”

“Everything okay?”

Clare and Jude both looked up at the sound of Meg's voice. She was clearly confused about why they were whispering to each other right in front of her, leaning slightly forward, as if she was attempting to catch some of the conversation. The fiances glanced at each other, both trying to come up with a convenient lie. But before either of them could speak, other people started filing into the study.

Crowley and Rowena led the way in, followed by Bobby, Dean, and Castiel. All of them had various looks on their faces, ranging from Rowena's smugness, to Dean's annoyance, and Castiel's concern. All of them had their eyes on Meg, who slid around the table to stand her ground. Clare was impressed to see how well she was handling everyone else's outrage toward her. They all really must have known each other at some point in time.

“The time has come fer answers,” Rowena practically sang, “Are ya ready to come face to face with yer past, Meggie?”

Clare felt his own heartbeat pick up pace. Ugh, he didn't want this to happen. He didn't want Meg to see everything that happened before this day.

“Ready as I'll ever be,” Meg answered, her eyes flickering toward Jude's parents, “Hi, Castiel. Nice to see you haven't changed.”

Jude's Papa glanced down at this tan trench coat and blue tie before looking back up to Meg with his head tilted in confusion. Their momentary stare seemed to strike anger through Dean like lightning. The bow-legged hunter practically jumped in front of his husband, blocking Cas from Meg's view.

“Enough with the damn pleasantries,” he growled, looking to Crowley, “Get this shit over with so we can all move on with our lives.”

“Of course,” Crowley replied, pointing toward Meg, “This vile, weak-excuse-for-a-demon has ingested a large amount of potion that causes amnesia. All we need is for an angel to restore her memories.”

“Fine. I'll get Gabe,” Dean offered.

“Gabe?” Bobby repeated, his face skewing in confusion, “Why get him when Cas is standin' right here?”

“My darling raises a fair point,” Crowley agreed, looking to Cas, “Castiel? Is your grace efficient enough to perform a full memory restoration?”

Castiel shot Crowley the narrowest set of eyes that Clare had ever seen.

“Are you suggesting that my grace might be _weak_?” Cas asked, appalled, “Perhaps I should give you a stern reminder of the power it's capable of.”

Crowley took a small step back, easing behind Bobby.

“Ah, that won't be necessary,” the demon king politely refused, “We only need you to carry out the task of making this demon remember all the atrocities she has committed.”

Again, Clare's heart rate spiked. He didn't want Meg to remember that stuff. What if she didn't like Clare after it was done? Or worse, what if she _blamed him_ for everything that happened? Clare gulped and tightened his hand around Jude's. ' _No matter what happens, Jude will still be there_ ,' Clare told himself. Despite everyone else's bickering, Meg took the liberty of seating herself in a chair at the end of the first long table, crossing her legs and folding her hands in her lap. Once comfortable, she raised her eyes to Cas.

“Ready when you are, tree topper,” she hummed with a smirk.

Clare thought that the muscles along Dean's jaws might pop at any second, because the guy was clenching his mouth so tight. His hands were even balled into fists as he watched Cas sigh and walk toward Meg. Once behind her, Cas attempted to calm his husband by giving him one of those, ' _Take it easy, Dean, it'll be alright_ ' looks, but it didn't seem to work. Dean furiously crossed his arms and planted his feet, standing uncomfortably close to Meg and Castiel. Everyone else around the study watched as Cas raised his hands and hovered them over Meg's head.

“Meg, are you sure about this?” he asked.

Clare was surprised when Meg turned to look at him. Looking at Clare's face must have given her the extra push she needed to agree.

“Sure as hell,” she answered boldly.

Cas shared a look with Dean, and then Jude and Clare, before lowering his hands to her head.

“Then hold still,” he instructed.

Clare had a death grip on Jude's hand as he watched Cas's palms start to glow against Meg's dark hair. Both Cas and Meg's eyes were closed and expressions were full of preparedness. For a moment or two, there was only silence as everyone watched and waited for Meg to receive her memories. And Clare's heart pounded the whole time.

But about a minute and a half into it, Clare noticed that Meg's expression was changing. Her eyebrows were scrunching and it looked like she was breathing faster. Her hands were no longer in her lap, but holding onto the arms of the wooden chair. In fact, _Cas's_ face was changing, too. It looked like both of them were having trouble breathing or something.

“Pop?” Jude worriedly asked out loud.

Cas didn't open his eyes. They remained shut, squinting hard as he held onto the top of Meg's head. Clare looked back to his mom's face – and saw liquid starting to pool around her eye lashes. A couple of whimpers toppled out of her open mouth and she began to breathe heavily, gripping the chair so hard her knuckles were turning white. Cas clenched his jaw, but continued to hold his grace steady. The whole sight was starting to worry Clare and apparently Dean felt the same way. Jude's dad reached up to clutch Cas by the arm.

“Cas,” Dean said out loud.

But it was like the angel didn't hear him. Cas kept holding onto Meg, filling her head with grace and memories. Meg was full on crying now; tears streaming down from her closed eyes as she held onto the chair she was in. The view was making Clare sick at his stomach. He didn't like this at all. Cas's grace remained a solid beam for several more seconds until he finally let go with a loud gasp –

And when he did, a shrill, disturbing scream erupted from Meg's mouth, echoing around the study.

The demon fell out of the chair and the angel stumbled backward, both finally blinking their eyes open. The moment he was alert, Castiel frantically scanned his surroundings until he found Dean, after which he threw himself into Dean's arms with a loud sob. He was visibly trembling and clinging to his husband as if he had just witnessed something terrifying. In the meantime, Meg had curled up into a ball on the floor and was sobbing under the table, gasping for air and crying out loud with every breath.

On instinct alone, Clare immediately darted around the table and fell to the floor to reach out and wrap his arms around Meg. The sound of her cries alone made him feel guilty – and angry. Dammit, why did he let Crowley and Rowena talk them into this? This wasn't what Clare wanted! Clare looked up to glare at Crowley and Rowena – only to find them staring between Cas and Meg with concern. Clearly, neither of them thought that it was going to be this bad, or that it would effect Cas just as much.

Clare didn't know what to do, other than hold Meg in his arms to stop her from screaming. Her cries had calmed into loud whimpers, but her face was still buried in her hands as she rocked back and forth. The only thing Clarence could make out of her sad, blubbering gibberish was a single sentence repeating over and over.

“ _I'm sorry,_ ” she sobbed, “ _I'm so sorry..._ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> … Needless to say, Meg's had a very hard twenty-four years. :( You're probably what she and Cas saw at the end, and I promise that it will be touched upon in the next few chapters. I will say that most of it was, sadly, horrific. :( As for Ollie's part at the beginning, Dean was very angry about Meg being in his house and that was why he unintentionally yelled at Ollie. But once he settled down, I feel like Dean was basically talking to a younger version of himself. Just replace 'Eddie' with 'John' and you've got Dean's inner monologue. ;) As for Clare, I think he feels very torn about Meg. Before meeting the Winchesters, his whole life revolved around finally meeting and getting to know his mom, and now he is actually doing it. There will be a lot of growth coming up! I hope you guys are ready for it! :D Thank you so much for reading and commenting on this story. The love I get from you guys every week literally keeps me going, and I love each and everyone of you in return! :D The next chapter will be out soon! :)


	6. Chapter 6

“It... It was horrific...”

That was the first thing Cas said after he calmed down enough to talk about what happened with Meg. Dean hugged him and ushered him into the control room to sit him down. Dean wanted to get his husband away from the wailing demon on the floor and remind him that he was still home; in the safest, warmest place on earth. It took several minutes of Dean humming soft, comforting words for Cas to relax enough to release his unyielding grip on Dean, look him in the eye, and finally speak. That breathless sentence made Dean realize that Cas must have seen all Meg's memories. And, somehow, the notion pissed Dean off even more. It was bad enough that Meg was even here – in _their home_ , a sacred place – but now she was traumatizing Dean's beloved husband with her horrific memories?

“It's okay, Cas,” Dean promised, continuing to gently stroke the angels arms as he knelt in front of him, “You're home, baby. Everything's alright.”

Cas shook his head once, blue eyes looking glazed over as he sat looking paler than fresh snow.

“So much violence,” he muttered, “There was so much _pain_... I witnessed all of it, Dean, I – I lost count... I lost count of the sexual assaults... The physical abuse. The mental torture. The immense agony... I saw all of it. I _felt_ all of it, Dean – I've never felt such _misery_ before...”

Cas's deep voice cracked near the end of his sentence and his eyes found Dean's again. The torment in Cas's wet eyes made Dean's heart ache. The angel reached down to grip handfuls of the top of the man's shirt.

“I never want to feel that again,” the angel whimpered, “Please, Dean, don't ever abandon me. Don't ever let me feel that way -”

“Shhh, baby, hey. I'm right here,” Dean interrupted, “It's alright.”

No matter how much Dean tried to get Cas to calm down, the angel's tremble wouldn't fade. Cas held onto Dean the same way Jude used to hold onto his little stuffed bee when he was scared; both cradling and clinging to him like a source of comfort and protection. Dean had spent most of his life at Cas's side and knew him well. Almost nothing could rattle 'Angel of the Lord' Castiel, not even giving birth to a child on his own. There must have been some really messed up shit in Meg's memories for him to be acting so scared – but that didn't make Dean any less pissed. Seeing Cas so frightened made him want to punch someone repeatedly...

Luckily, Crowley and Rowena entered the room and provided a slight distraction for both Dean and Castiel. Rowena looked woeful, staring apologetically at Cas with both of her hands braced on her chest. Crowley, on the other hand, seemed eager for answers. He came in with his hands in the pockets of his suit pants and brown eyes fixed studiously on the angel sitting in the chair.

“So, Castiel?” the king of Hell prodded, “You saw it, did you not? You witnessed the whore's blight.”

Cas narrowed his eyes in anger at the term 'whore,' but replied with a single, solemn nod.

“Well then, out with it. Tell us what you saw. I want to know what she's been doing,” Crowley insisted.

Dean turned to give Crowley a warning glare. Seriously? Crowley wanted Cas to repeat out loud the very thing that was making him tremble like a scared child? What an asshole! Dean opened his mouth to refuse on his husband's behalf – but his words were lost when he felt Cas jut up from the chair. The angel rose to face Crowley with balled hands and a lethal look.

“You _want_ to know?” Cas breathed, “Are you seeking some sick satisfaction in this? Are you attempting to revel in her pain?”

“Indeed, I am,” Crowley proudly agreed.

Castiel flashed forward, instantly appearing inches in front of Crowley. The angel grabbed fistfuls of the demon's jacket and yanked him close to glare down at him.

“ _Why?_ ” Cas growled, voice like searing fire.

Even though he was being threatened by the embodiment of heaven's wrath, Crowley stood his ground. The smugness faded from his face, leaving serious intent. He only raised a hand to point toward the study.

“You have never known real pain until you have seen it manifest on the face of the child you love, and can do nothing about it,” the demon answered, arching an eyebrow, “That boy in there has become _mine_. Clarence belongs to me – to all of us. How can you stand there and defend Meg after she nearly destroyed his life – literally threw him away like garbage –”

“That was _not_ her fault,” Cas interrupted in a hiss, still holding the front of Crowley's suit and glaring into the demon's eyes, “You were not there. You did not _feel_ what she felt. You were not _raped_ as she was raped. Not left to _die_ on the side of the road like an animal. Confused. Lost. Incoherent. Violated. Damaged. Abandoned – ”

“None of that excuses her actions,” Crowley loudly argued, “Clarence was -”

“Born a victim, yes. But his mother was one also,” Cas barked, finally releasing Crowley with a firm shove, “You want to blame her for Clarence's pain, but you fail to see that she was in so much of her own that she could not comprehend anyone else's. Her mind was so riddled with pain and fogged with chemicals that she did not even realize that she had a child. The blame does not fall on her! It falls on the man who impregnated her by force!”

“Yes! That warlock was at fault, but she shares it too,” Crowley retorted, “She had every chance of coming back and making things right, and she chose not to. Instead, she remained a drugged-up gypsy and let her only child wander around in the hope of finding her one day. Only to let him down a _second_ time!”

“ _She did not know he even existed!_ ” Cas yelled.

“And we are just supposed to _forgive that? I think bloody not!_ ” Crowley shot.

“ _Hey!_ ”

Dean, along with everyone else, turned around at the sound of Clarence's voice. The blonde demon was carefully escorting Meg through the control room, with Jude and Bobby around them. Clare's eyes, which were full of exhaustion, bounced between Cas and Crowley as he walked.

“Can you guys just shut the hell up for five minutes?” he asked bluntly.

Dean gulped as he watched the kid help his weeping mother out of the room. Clearly, Clare didn't care about anything they were discussing. He was focused on what was happening the moment, and Dean could respect that. Clare eventually turned away to lead Meg down the hall, but Jude's sight lingered on his parents. Dean tried his best to give his son a comforting look. He knew that Jude was probably having just as much trouble with this mess as Clare was.

When Clare, Meg, Jude, and Bobby were out of sight, Crowley and Cas both exhaled and turned away from each other. The demon shared a look of mutual discomfort with his fiery-haired mother, while the angel returned to his husband's arms. Dean welcomed Cas immediately, wrapping him back in a loving hug where he belonged.

“I am blessed to have you in my life, Dean,” Cas's deep voice whispered into Dean's ear.

The man gulped and leaned back to plant a kiss on the side of his angel's face.

“Same here, babe,” he replied.

The control room went almost completely silent. It was so quiet, Dean could almost hear Cas's heartbeat. The guy was obviously fired up; still angry and upset over the argument and what he saw in Meg's head. But as Dean stood there holding Cas in his arms, he started to feel a hint of guilt creep into his own heart.

Because despite his husband's bold opinion, Dean agreed with Crowley.

* * *

Jude followed his fiance down the gray-tiled corridors of the bunker, keeping the slow pace of their small group. Meg was still so upset that she could barely walk. She was holding Clare's arm with one hand and Bobby's with the other; hobbling forward with soft and timid whimpers. Every so often, Clarence would glance back to make sure Jude was still close by, and Jude would always offer him a comforting look.

Jude didn't know exactly what happened in the study. He assumed that his Papa was able to restore the memories to Meg's mind and that he might have seen them for himself, but the emotional reactions were kind of worrying. Surely Meg's memories couldn't have been that traumatic, right? In all honesty, Clarence had probably lived through worse. He had been abandoned, drugged, and raped many times before he ever met the Winchesters. It was so bad, it took him _years_ to be comfortable enough to tell Jude about the worst parts. There wasn't much that could top that. If anyone needed consoling, it was Clare.

But just like the brave and stoic man he had always been, Clare seemed to keep his own emotions in check. Even now, as he led Meg to a quieter room in the bunker, he kept his sight forward and voice calm. Of all the things Jude admired about his future husband, Clare's immediate willingness to help someone in pain – regardless of his own – was probably the best.

“Here,” Clare said, ushering Meg to a bed in one of the spare rooms, “Sit down for a second.”

Meg was still attempting to calm her elevated breathing as she plopped down on the mattress. Her watery eyes were on him, her son, the whole time he was trying to make her comfortable. Once she was sitting, Bobby stood up straight and took a deep breath.

“I'll go get you a drink,” he offered to Meg.

“Make it two,” Clare revised.

Bobby smiled a little, briefly patting Clare on the shoulder.

“You got it,” the old man agreed.

Jude moved out of the way so that Bobby could exit the room, and soon it was just the three of them again. Just Jude, Clare, and Meg. Jude stood near the wall and watched the demon lady, studying the way she kept her eyes on Clare as he walked over to get a blanket out of the closet. Meg seemed... confused by him. Constantly in awe, somehow. When Clare returned to wrap the blanket around her shoulders, Meg's quivering lips opened and she asked -

“Why are you doing this for me?”

Clare physically paused when his mom asked that question. His beautiful greenish brown eyes raised to look at Jude and he hid a fond smile.

“Because somebody did it for me,” he answered, subtly referring to Jude, “I figured I'd pass it on.”

His answer seemed to both comfort and upset Meg. She reached a shaky hand up to wipe her own cheeks.

“But... She was right. That woman was right. I – I threw you _away_ ,” Meg gasped in horror, her tears starting up again as she shook her head, “How can you even still _look_ at me after something like that?”

Jude rotated his full attention back to Clarence. Meg had a very good question; one that almost everyone wanted to know the answer to, especially Jude. How _could_ Clarence still tolerate her presence after everything that happened? Again, Clare stole a glance toward Jude in preparation, crouching near the floor so that he and Meg were almost on the same eye-level.

“Because... You're my mom,” he shrugged, “I've wanted to meet you and get to know you my whole life. And, trust me, I've done some pretty awful shit too. Luckily, the people who care about me don't hold it against me... And I don't plan on holding anything against you, either. I mean, I already forgave you. I think it's time to start fresh, you know?”

It took a second for Jude to realize that he and Meg were wearing the same gobsmacked expression. They were both looking at Clare with wide eyes and open mouths, in total shock and awe of his words. Jude's heart felt so warm in his chest. Everything Clare said was true. He clearly remembered the day – only a few months prior – that Clare got down on his knees, held his unconscious mother's hand, and verbally forgave her. Jude was lucky enough to witness it in person, and now he was able to see the rewards of that effort, too.

Meg seemed equally awed and ashamed. She gulped and shook her head in confusion, timidly looking away.

“But I said horrible things,” she whimpered, “That day, under the bridge -”

“That was a long time ago,” Clare interrupted, casually shifting the conversation away from the terrible memory, “This is now. I'd rather be here, sitting in this room with you, about to have a drink. Wouldn't you?”

Meg carefully raised her head to meet Clare's eyes again.

“... Y – yeah,” she admitted.

Clare took a deep breath and nodded, still wearing half a smile.

“See? We're already agreeing on things. It's like we're related or something,” he pointed out with a wink.

His subtle joke worked. Meg finally cracked a smile, beaming at him from underneath her tear-stained face. The warmth and comfort that Clarence gave off seemed to uplift the entire room. Even Jude found himself smiling down at his fiance with pride. Clare was able to take a traumatizing situation and morph it into a learning experience for everyone involved. If Jude ever needed an extra reason to marry Clarence, this was definitely one of them... Meg reached up to tighten the blanket around her shoulders as her eyes flickered back and forth between Clare and her own lap. She still seemed a little ashamed to be sitting in front of him.

“It... It seems like you grew up pretty well without me,” she mentioned softly.

Jude's smile faltered a little bit at the remembrance of Clare's horrible past. Meg was wrong. Clare did not 'grow up well' without her. He struggled through his whole life; faced the grief of losing his first family of coven witches as a child, the hardship of living alone without a home as a teenager, and then finally had to face, not only _her_ , but his own sadistic father as well. Clare's life was a book of sad poetry, and Meg didn't know anything about it. Jude looked to his fiance, expecting him to get upset and start the long, woeful story of his life – but he didn't. Clare just held onto his smile and nodded.

“Yeah. I did okay,” he mused.

Once again, Jude was speechless. Really? Clare wasn't going to tell her about his own life? How he was born addicted to drugs and re-orphaned at an early age? Raped by various men? Left alone? Struggled to find food and shelter? He wasn't going to tell her about _any_ of that?

Bobby came back into the room before another word could be spoken. He was carrying a few beers in his hands, which he offered to Meg, Clare, and Jude. Meg and Clare took them while Jude politely refused. Meg immediately took a few gulps, as if the taste helped her cope with everything that was going on, while Clare sat his on the floor. It seemed like he was too interested in the conversation he was having with his mom to actually drink anything. Luckily, Bobby brought a fresh sense of atmosphere into the room with him. The old man sipped his own beer and casually leaned against the nearby dresser.

“So, Meg, what've you been doin' since you got clean?” he asked.

It sounded like he was trying to get her mind off the chaotic reality of her current circumstances by distracting her with a more mundane topic. Meg held her brown beer bottle between her knees and fiddled with the rim as she answered.

“Well, first, I, uh... I dipped into a thrift shop and got these duds,” she answered, gesturing to her own clothing, “Saw the jacket on a mannequin in the window, so I had to have it. And this shirt,” she opened her jacket to reveal the wiggly smiley face logo on her clothes before raising her head to smile sideways at the rest of the guys, “Can't go wrong with Nirvana, am I right?”

Clarence instantly turned his head to share a pleasantly surprised look with Jude. Nirvana was one of Clare's all-time-favorite bands...

“You like Nirvana?” Clare asked.

“You mean, do I have good taste in music?” Meg smiled with an arched eyebrow, “Of course I do, kid... Do – um, do _you_ like music?”

Clare bit down a grin, like he was trying to contain himself from bursting with excitement.

“Hell yeah! I play the guitar,” he quickly admitted, “I have, like, three of them back at home.”

Meg's mouth fell open again.

“Holy shit,” she gasped, “My – my kid is a _musician_? I'm the _mom_ of a musician?”

“Well, I'm not _that_ good,” Clare mumbled with a blush.

“Don't let the kid lie to ya,” Bobby spoke up, “He's better than Keith Richards with a six-string.”

“Well, duh. Keith Richards is technically a dinosaur, Bobby,” Clare turned to smile.

“You'd best be mindful of who yer callin' a dinosaur,” Bobby winked slyly, “And don't sell yourself short, boy. Lot of folks would sell their souls to play like you.”

“I've had a few takers for that kind of thing,” Meg quietly added, “I mean, I've made a few soul transactions in my time. But pure talent is way better than bought talent... I'd love to hear you play. You know, when you have time -”

“Okay,” Clare hummed, jumping up from the floor in a rush of energy, “Jude can take me to go get my guitar really quick, right Jay?”

Every eye in the room was suddenly on Jude and he could feel his own face starting to blaze with heat. If there was one thing Jude hated, it was being made the center of attention. And while he would usually oblige his fiance and do whatever he wanted, Jude felt like he really needed to ask Clare a few questions in private.

“Clare, can I talk to you for a minute?... Alone?” Jude muttered bashfully.

The excitement on Clare's face faded a bit. He seemed kind of confused by Jude's hesitance to carry out his request, but remained as respectful as ever.

“Sure,” he answered, glancing back to Meg, “We'll be right back.”

“Okay,” Meg nodded.

Thankfully, Bobby picked up a new conversation with Meg – something about how Crowley could be a real pain in the ass sometimes – as Jude opened the door at his back and led his fiance out into the hall. Even when they were finally alone in the empty corridor, Clare still couldn't get the smile off his face. He spun around to face Jude with a look of sheer delight.

“Oh man, can you believe it?” he asked, “ _My mom_ wants to hear me play the guitar. I never thought I would actually get to say that sentence. Isn't this amazing?”

“Y – yeah,” Jude mumbled, unsure of how to begin without sounding rude, “I mean, no...”

Clare's jittery movements stopped abruptly and he looked to Jude with scrunched eyebrows.

“No?” he repeated, “What do you mean?”

Jude gulped. Uh-oh. How was he going to navigate his way through this emotional minefield? Where was he even supposed to start? The angel began by taking a deep breath and reaching out to hold Clare's hands. He wanted to offer as much support as he could while he got through his terrible honesty.

“Clare, I love you, very much,” Jude reminded, “You're my favorite person in the whole world.”

“Thanks, Jay. I love you too,” Clare quickly replied.

“But,” Jude continued quietly, “Don't you think we should tell Meg the truth? You know, about what happened to you when you were young?”

“No,” Clare instantly denied, his smile vanishing completely, “I mean, it doesn't really matter now, does it? It's all in the past -”

“But she'll find out about it sooner or later,” Jude gently pointed out, “Why not tell her now?”

Clare exhaled with frustration and dropped his head, shaking it at the floor for a second as he wiggled his fingers between Jude's.

“You saw what happened in the study, right?” Clare mentioned, looking back up to Jude's eyes, “You heard that scream?”

“Yes,” Jude answered.

“Well, that was enough for today,” Clare replied, “She's been through enough -”

“What about _you_ , Clare?” Jude interrupted, unable to keep quiet about it any longer, “You've been through _worse_! Clarence, your past is like a horror movie! And I won't -” Jude gulped, feeling moisture threatening to blur his eyes, “I won't let it happen again. I can't. You mean too much to me, I just...”

Jude bit his bottom lip to stop it from trembling, which cut off the rest of his sentence. He hated that his emotions were taking over, but it seemed to make Clare realize the severity of his words. The blonde demon reached up to cup Jude's face, sweetly holding his cheek so that he could give him a powerful look.

“God, Jay. You're such an angel,” Clare smirked, briefly resting his forehead to Jude's, “I wish you could see this from _my_ perspective.”

Jude paused to consider his fiance's statement. Maybe Clare was right. Jude didn't really take the time to see things from Clare's point of view, did he? Jude never asked how Clare felt about Meg. He only _assumed_ that Clare would be upset... Hoping to regain some common ground with his future life partner, Jude finally steadied himself to find out.

“Tell me,” the angel suggested.

Clare raised his head so that he could look Jude in the eye and smile at him.

“Well... When I was a little kid – really young, about maybe five years old – I used to pretend that my mom was away on vacation somewhere really nice, and that she was going to bring home cool presents for me,” Clare began fondly, “Sarah, one of the witches in the coven, told me that was why my mom left her jacket. So that she would have to come back for it later and use it as an excuse to see me again.”

Jude smiled. Wow. That was a really nice way for a child to think about it...

“Then, when I was a teenager, after I got my first guitar, I pictured that my mom was some kind of rockstar,” Clare chuckled, “I imagined her having the ripped jeans and long leather coats. Lead singer of some underground metal band. She didn't give a shit about anyone – accept me, of course. In my head, she always loved me. I thought that when we were reunited, I was going to get to watch her shows from backstage and that, sometimes, she would even pull me on stage with her and let me play for the crowds. 'Cause, you know, I was talented and she knew it.”

Jude stifled a giggle. Clare had a really good imagination to have thought up all of these scenarios. Despite the humor, Clare's smile dimmed just a little and he lowered his voice.

“I know a lot of shit has happened between then and now,” he admitted, “I know there's a lot of horrific things that I can't change or ignore... But, Jude, I'm _still_ that kid. I was waiting on that mom who never showed up, and now she's finally _here_ ,” Clare grinned, “It didn't happen the way I hoped, but it did happen. And I'm going to make the most of it.”

Jude felt his heart beating firmly in his chest as he stared up at his fiance in awe. He felt like he was finally on the same page as Clare. He finally understood why Clare was actually happy to see Meg. Still, there were reasons to worry...

“Clare,” Jude gulped, “What if she hurts you again? What if she gets your hopes up and then disappoints you, just like the first time?”

To Jude's surprise, Clare casually shrugged.

“She can't hurt me too bad,” he mumbled.

The answer left Jude baffled.

“What do you mean?” the angel asked.

Before he answered, Clare tightened his hands around Jude's and brought them closer to their faces.

“I mean, I've already got the most important person in the world,” the demon replied, purposefully spinning the ring on Jude's finger with a smirk, “It doesn't matter if my mom hurts me. Or Crowley. Or Rowena. Or your dads. Hell, it doesn't matter if Oliver Thompson knees me in the nuts and calls me a loser. The only person who really matters is _you_ , Jay. You're the one who has my heart. If someone else wants to break it, they'll have to go through you to do it.”

A giant wave of emotion crashed over Jude's heart as he searched Clarence's beautiful eyes. Jude knew that Clare loved him, but he never imagined the extent could have been put into such elegant words. A few a moments of holding Clare's hands and staring at his handsome face, Jude reached out to curl both arms around him. He held the demon as close as he could, to the point that he could nearly feel Clare's heart beating against his own chest. A few small tears oozed from the corners of Jude's eyes as he closed them.

“I love you so much, Clare,” he mumbled against his fiance's shoulder.

“I love you too, Jude,” the demon replied, “... So, would it be cool if we jump over to Bobby's so I could pick up my guitar?”

Jude chuckled before sliding his arms off of Clare's back with a nod.

“Okay,” he agreed, “but you have to kiss me, first.”

Clare smiled with his eyebrows raised.

“Wow, you accept kisses as flight payments, now?” he asked humorously, “Count me a happy customer.”

Jude giggled again as Clare's lips collided with his own. The demon kissed the angel passionately, mixing their tongues together with a gentle swirl as he cradled the back of Jude's head. By the time Clare pulled away, Jude felt better than he had all night. Clare kept his arms around Jude's back, holding him so that he could hum in his ear.

“Ready for take off, Superman,” the demon purred.

Jude smiled toward the far wall as he held onto his future husband and closed his eyes, instantly flying them back to Bobby's house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah! And the title of this part finally makes sense. ;D Folks, I'm really sorry about all the drama. I know it seems like the whole family is divided on this 'Meg' situation. But hopefully, Clare's insight near the end of the chapter helped put things into better Perspective. ;) I think it's funny how people (like the Winchester family) become so protective of the people they love, they will jump to defend them, even if they don't really need it. Meg's presence represents the memory of past trauma for many characters, but hopefully this experience will teach them that dark histories do not take away from the love that is already there. If anything, it just reinforces it. ;) (Is that too deep? Yeah, kinda deep. I swear I'm not trying to complicate this story with giant worm holes of thought! It just happens! Lol!) XD Guys, I really appreciate all of you for reading this work and leaving me the sweetest comments. Your kind words help me so much every single week, and I am so grateful and humbled by all of you! :) We will be checking in on Jess and Ollie next week! Thank you so much for reading and commenting, loves! The next chapter will be out soon! :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Just a quick warning that this chapter contains some mild mentions of rape. Nothing too graphic, but I wanted you to know ahead of time. ;) Thank you so much for reading!

“This is... phenomenal,” Jess heard her uncle Michael say at her bedside, “Truly, this is reminiscent of my Father's miracles...”

“That's because it _is_ one of his miracles, Mikey. Duh,” Jess's Papa replied in a childish tone.

While Jessica listened to the conversation in the room, her main focus was her own glowing belly. She was laying on top of her bed, back in her bunker bedroom, with her shirt pulled up just enough to expose her stomach. She – along with pretty much everyone else in the room – was staring at her body, mesmerized by the fact that there was a tiny fetus growing just beneath the illuminated surface.

Jess knew that she would get pregnant some day. In her future-dreams, she was always chasing little toddlers and feeding small babies – babies that looked so much like Ollie. Jess knew that she and Oliver would be parents. She just didn't know it was going to happen so quickly. They hadn't even been married a full day and they were already expecting their first child. Gosh, there was so much to do! So many things to buy! So much that she and Ollie needed to learn! The anxious thoughts made Jess look up with worry. There were three men in the room with her, but none of them were Jessica's husband. Where the hell was he?!

“Where's Oliver?” she asked out loud.

Papa stepped over to sit on the edge of her bed and gently pat the back of her hand.

“Don't worry, baby bunny. Your dad went to go get him,” he assured, “Jane's on her way over to see you, too. Sounds like she's excited to be a grandma... Gah, a new baby!” Papa suddenly exclaimed with a grin, looking like a kid on his way to Disney World, “Oh man, there's going to be a new little human for us to spoil rotten! Aren't you excited?”

Though she was mostly worried, Jess forced a nod. Deep down, yes. Jessica was really excited to have and hold her first child in her arms. But the fact that Oliver wasn't there to join in concerned her. Ollie was supposed to be there, at her side, awing over the impending birth of their child like everyone else. Why would he just up and leave? Maybe it was all too much for him to handle...

Before Jessica was completely overcome with emotions, she noticed her uncle Adam step closer to the bed. His sight was on her stomach, like everyone else's, but he looked more curious than anything.

“I've been a registered nurse for a few years. I've seen my fair share of pregnant ladies, but I've gotta say,” he mentioned, pausing to give one breathless chuckle, “This is the first time I've ever seen one actually glow.”

“It's the angel thing,” Papa answered, turning slightly on the bed to look at him, “Angel babies grow in grace. How do you think Jessica got here? Both of her parents are male.”

“You are not 'male', Gabriel,” Michael corrected quietly from the end of the bed, “Angels do not have genders. We are made of light and celestial wavelengths. We lack any and all physical attributes, such as reproductive organs, therefore -”

“ _Ugh_ , spare us the science lecture, Mike,” Papa interrupted in a loud groan, looking back to Adam, “Listen, all you gotta know is that when sex happens with grace, babies get made. Hell, when Sammy and I were making Jessica, we -”

“Please don't get into that story,” Jessica blurted, “I don't want to hear about it.”

“I do,” Adam spoke up, his face immediately turning red, “I mean, I want to know how this whole 'angels having babies' thing works, that's all. I'm not a perve or anything...”

“Sure. That's what _all_ the Winchesters say,” Papa agreed skeptically, his eyes narrowed, “and the next thing you know, you're dancing around in a skimpy librarian outfit, asking to have your books stamped -”

“ _Eww!_ ” Jess groaned in disgust, “Pop, that's gross!”

The thought of her parents' kinky 'playtime' made the nausea resurface in Jess's stomach. She tightened her hands over her rounded belly, attempting to both calm her sickness and shield her unborn child from the revolting stories.

“What? It's the truth!” Papa defended.

“Perhaps you can focus more on the procreating details, and less on the wild sex antics between you and your partner,” Michael suggested with a grim undertone.

“ _Pffft_. You expect me to talk about Sam Winchester without mentioning the wild sex antics?” Papa scoffed, “That's like eating a hotdog without the wiener. There's no point, 'cause it's just bread! Sam Winchester is my wiener, okay? He gives my hotdog meaning!”

Michael took a deep breath of exhaustion, momentarily closing his eyes and shaking his head. The archangel was clearly done with Pop's nonsense. But Jess had to giggle. Ah, Papa. He was such a goofball. His hilarious sense of humor was going to make him the best grandpa ever... While Michael and Adam struggled to grasp the depth of Papa's 'Hotdog' speech, the bedroom door opened. Jessie leaned up and craned her neck to see who was coming in, and instantly recognized her dad.

“Ah! There's my wiener now,” Papa proudly announced.

Dad paused in the doorway to give Papa a weird look.

“... Did you just call me a wiener?” he asked.

Papa only laughed and nodded, getting up from the bed to go over and explain the whole story to Dad. In the meantime, Jessica's attention was diverted to the person who entered the room next – and a gust of relief swept through her soul. The bright orange hair was a dead give away. Ollie was back! But he looked a little drained. It was like he had just run a marathon and was now tuckered out – only, instead of smelling like sweat, he smelled like alcohol.

At first, Jessica wanted to pummel her husband with angry questions about where he had been and why he wasn't by her side, like he promised he always would be. But seeing his brown eyes drift down to her rounding stomach and float back up to stare at her with a soft smile made her reconsider. Ollie seemed okay, now. Maybe he just needed a second to come to terms with what was happening. Still, Jessica reached both of her hands up toward him when she saw him. And he instantly walked over to ease down onto the bed and into her arms. Jess snuggled sideways into Ollie's chest, taking a deep breath of his masculine scent.

“Hey,” he said quietly against the top of her head, “Sorry it took me so long. I, uh... had a long talk with your dad and Dean about stuff.”

“It's okay,” Jess mumbled, “Just don't leave again.”

Instead of replying with words, Ollie sneaked a kiss to Jess's temple and wrapped both arms around her. Whether it was from the late hour or the intensity of their overwhelming day – or because she was now carrying _two_ bodies – Jessica felt utterly exhausted. Everything in her room was quiet, and being in Ollie's warm embrace nearly put her to sleep...

… Until Ms. Jane burst into the room.

The sound of the door banging open, along with Jane's high-pitched squeal of excitement, made everyone jump in surprise. Ollie's mom came rushing in with a giant smile that took up her whole face. She tossed her purse on the floor and ran over to swarm Jess and Oliver with a gigantic hug.

“ _Ahhh! My sweet children!_ ” she sang loudly, “ _You're going to have a baby! Ahh!_ ”

“We know, mom! Please stop yelling,” Ollie wheezed beneath his mom's tight grasp.

“Aww, look at you, guapa! So beautiful!” Jane swooned, raising up to place both hands on Jess's stomach, “and you are all lit up! Why are you so yellow? Is something wrong?”

“The glowing is normal, Jane. It's an angel thing,” Papa explained.

“Ah, you are _glowing_!” Jane rejoiced, “Jessica, my girl! And my sweet Calabaza! I am so happy for you! You will be such a wonderful madre and padre!”

Jane's enthusiasm brightened the whole room. Hearing her joyful emotions made everyone smile with delight. And, somehow, Jane's voice made Jessica's stomach tingle a little, too. Jess looked down at her belly under Jane's hands in wonder. Maybe the baby could hear the loud conversation, too...

“I can hardly wait to hold your little one,” Ollie's mom continued to speak, “Nine months is such a long time to wait, but I will be ready!”

Jess looked from her mother-in-law up to her fathers, seeing equal surprise in their eyes. Uh-oh. Jane didn't know how fast angel pregnancies were. Who was going to be the one to tell her? Jess expected to hear her Papa break the news, but Oliver beat him to the punch.

“Actually, mom,” he mumbled nervously, “It's only gonna take a week...”

“Maybe less, depending on how far along she is,” Dad added.

At first, Ms. Jane thought they were kidding. She threw her head of long dark hair back and laughed, still gently holding onto Jess's stomach. It wasn't until she realized that everyone else was silent that her chuckles quieted and she looked around in confusion.

“... wait, what?” she asked.

“The baby,” Jess said, also reaching down to hold her stomach, “It'll be here in a few days.”

Ms. Jane's brown eyes met Jess's and she blinked several times. It seemed to take her a moment to fully comprehend what she was hearing, and Jess completely understood. She, too, had a hard time coming to the realization that she would be a mom by the end of the week. Though the news had startled her at first, now Jess felt totally at peace with it. She had seen herself as a mom in so many dreams, she wasn't worried in the slightest. When the idea finally sank in for Jane, her eyes widened and dropped down in seriousness.

“Oh,” she breathed, slowly looking up to Dad and Papa, “There are so many things we must do. So much to get! We – we must prepare for this baby! It will be here soon!”

“We will, Jane. We -”

“But what about doctor appointments?” Jane interrupted Papa to ask, “Will we do an ultra sound, Gabriel? How will we know if the baby is growing okay? Or if it's a boy or girl?”

Smiles sprang up on both of Jess's parents' faces. They looked to each other as if they were both thinking of an inside joke before spinning to look down at Jess.

“Jessie-rabbit,” Pop began, sitting down on other side of Jess's bed again, “When I was preggers with you, and when Cassie was preggers with Jude, we knew the genders of our babies only a day after conception.”

“You _what_?” Michael blurted in shock across the room.

“How?” Adam asked, sounding curious.

“She was in my _grace_! I could feel everything, including her chromosomes, thank you very much,” Papa explained, turning back to Jess, “As I was saying, it didn't take very long to figure out genders. And I'm betting that you can do the same. So how bout it, baby bunny? Can you feel that kind of stuff, too?”

Jessica gulped as she looked from her wide-eyed Papa, to excited Ms. Jane, to her hopeful dad, and back up at her anxious husband. Every one was expecting her to somehow feel her baby's gender with her grace – which she could probably do, if she tried hard enough. But Jessica didn't need to use her grace to know what her baby was. Because, throughout all the future-dreams she had of her children, the tallest in the bunch was easy to pick out. Jess had seen her first child's face long before she ever got pregnant...

“She's a girl,” Jess proudly announced, turning her head so that she could focus her sight solely on her husband's shocked face, “Ollie, our first baby is a girl.”

Once again, Ms. Jane's shriek of excitement filled the room. She and papa both squealed and reached across the bed to hug each other, making the mattress jostle with their erratic movements. But despite the celebratory commotion, Jess kept her eyes on her husband. The worry and anxiety that had been resting on Ollie's face since the moment he found out about the pregnancy slowly disappeared as he searched Jess's eyes. Learning that they were going to have a girl – a beautiful, sweet daughter – made liquid pool in his cocoa eyes.

“Wh – what?” he breathed, voice shaking, “Really?”

Jess nodded feverishly. Ollie's face blurred as tears built up in her eyes, too. Both of them were crying and smiling, staring lovingly at each other as they thought about their sweet little girl. A few more tingles echoed from Jess's stomach, as if the baby could sense the loud celebration. With a sniffle, Jess unwound Ollie's arm from around her shoulder so that she could bring it down to rest over her glowing stomach.

“She's gonna be so beautiful,” Jess remarked, wishing she could relay her dreams to Ollie, “and if we're not careful, she's gonna have us wrapped around her tiny finger.”

Oliver chuckled, causing a tear to slip down his cheek as he held Jess's stomach with shaky fingers.

“Too late. I already am,” he admitted.

Watching Ollie laugh and cry at the same time made Jess just as emotional and happy. The two newlyweds leaned into each other, both looking down to stare at the glowing skin beneath their hands. There had been so many dreams in Jess's life that terrified her; so many omens of bad things to come and moments that scared her.

But this time, Jessica couldn't wait for her dreams to come true.

* * *

The horrific images and emotions of Meg's memories continued to haunt Castiel even as he and Dean prepared for bed. As he did whenever something was amiss, Dean stayed as close to Castiel as possible; constantly offering support in the form of affection, asking if there was anything he could do to help, and openly voicing his concern for Castiel's well-being. Despite his husband's fervent efforts for comfort, Cas knew that there was really nothing that Dean could do other than what he was already doing. But in all honestly, Dean's sympathy was more than enough to get the angel through.

Dean eventually fell asleep after about an hour of them laying in bed together. As was his nightly routine, Castiel searched his mate's handsome face and dwelt on his own thoughts. Hours before, in the study, Cas bore witness to a firsthand account of Meg's rape. Not only the encounter which conceived her son, but also the ones that took place before and after it. Each and every time, intercourse was performed against her will. Her body was pinned down, unabashedly displayed for her captor's eyes, and penetrated without her consent. And afterward, she was left alone; abandoned and forgotten like a used and broken toy that no longer served purpose. The sheer horror of it – the feelings of absolute shame, agony, and malice – caused Castiel pain in a way he never thought possible. He never knew that intercourse could be so horrific, because Dean had always treated him with the utmost respect.

The first time Castiel and Dean made love was so very _intimate_. Dean's actions were almost chivalrous. He went slow, applied copious amounts of affection, and always made sure Castiel was comfortable before proceeding to steadily increase the speed and intensity. Even after it was over, Dean continued to lay with the angel, whispering sweet words and caressing Cas's body until the man eventually fell asleep. The act was performed with such care and _love_. And every bout of sex they had since then was equally pure and satisfying. The night they conceived their own son was nothing short of _magic_. And now that he had insight into someone else's less-than-perfect experiences, Castiel felt a new sense of gratitude and humbleness toward his soul mate. Cas was utterly beholden to Dean. Most of his pleasant existence would not have been possible without the freckled faced, green-eyed, bow-legged hunter sleeping in the bed next to him...

“I owe you so much, Dean,” Castiel whispered into the silence.

Of course, Dean was asleep and did not hear his voice. But the angel felt the urge to repeat it endlessly. Castiel loved Dean with every ounce of his soul. He only wished he could demonstrate his appreciation with more than just words. The angel settled with a single kiss to the side of Dean's calm face. As he stared down at his husband, though, Castiel also began to wonder about their child. Jude was present during the event in the study, and Cas was so caught up in the commotion that he did not even consider his son's reaction. Or Clarence's, for that matter. Curious and slightly concerned, Castiel gently caressed his husband's face before getting up from their bed to check on the children.

The time was nearing three o'clock in the morning and the bunker was mostly silent. The angel strode along the dimly lit corridors until he reached the hallways that contained Jessica and Jude's bedrooms. At first, it appeared that both doors were shut. But upon closer inspection, Castiel saw that Jude's door was slightly ajar. And Jessica's door opened completely when he approached. Cas paused to watch his brother, Gabriel, carefully sneak out of the room. The archangel gently and quietly shut the door behind him before turning around and gasping loudly. Castiel's sudden presence seemed to startle him

“Dad above, Cassie! Why do you have to be such a creeper?!” Gabriel hissed.

“My apologies,” Cas offered, though he did not think himself a 'creeper.'

Gabriel took a few easing breaths before waving a dismissing hand with a smile.

“Ah, don't worry about it. Nothing can stop this happy train! I'm gonna be a pop-pop!” the archangel quietly rejoiced.

Castiel narrowed his eyes.

“What is a 'Pop-pop'?” he asked.

“A grandfather, Cas. I'm going to be a grandfather,” Gabriel fully explained, “And guess what? It's a _girl_! My baby bunny is gonna have a _girl_!”

A swirl of excitement stirred in Castiel's chest as he glanced back to Jessica's bedroom door. He was so _happy_ for his niece. He, too, remembered what it was like to find out about the gender of his child. Being pregnant with Jude was an experience that Castiel would treasure forever, and he knew that Jessica would feel the same way.

“Is she awake?” Cas asked, hoping to formally congratulate her.

“Nah, she and Ollie are sleeping. I was just checking in on them,” Gabriel informed, “I'm thinking about heading out to a twenty-four hour store and picking up some baby stuff. You wanna join?”

While Gabriel's invitation sounded lovely, Castiel felt the need to pass. There was too much going on – both in the bunker and in his mind – to concentrate on shopping. Cas politely declined with a simple head shake.

“I feel I must check on Jude and Clarence. Because of everything that's going on,” the seraph clarified.

“Okey-dokey then,” Gabriel shrugged, “Catch you in the morning, baby bird.”

Castiel smiled and waved to his brother, waiting in the hallway to watch him fly off in search of infant goods. Gabriel's absence left the bunker as silent as it was before, and reminded Castiel of his journey to see the children. He began by soundlessly entering Jude's room by swiftly opening the cracked door and easing inside. It wasn't until he was steps away from the bed that Castiel realized that his son and Clarence were laying together in a tangled heap on the twin-sized mattress. The two boys were facing each other, still dressed in the same clothes they had been wearing all day, and their eyes were closed. It appeared as though they had toppled onto the bed and passed out in sheer exhaustion. The sight was... rather comforting. Perhaps Castiel didn't need to comfort them, because they had already found solace in each others' embrace.

In an effort to let the boys get some much needed rest, Castiel carefully took a few steps back. He tried his best not to make a sound as he turned for the door and reached for the handle -

“He fell asleep about twenty minutes ago.”

Castiel halted in place and turned around at the sound of the soft whisper. The boys had not moved an inch, but Clarence's eyes were now wide open and staring up at the angel in the room. Castiel gulped, feeling as though he had been caught trespassing. Apparently, Clarence had been awake the whole time; only keeping his eyes closed to copy Jude. Castiel knew how it felt to mimic sleep. He often did the same with Dean... Not wanting things to get uncomfortable, Cas inched back toward the bed to look down at his son's fiance.

“Oh,” the angel murmured, “I, um... I only wanted to make sure all was well.”

Clarence slightly nodded against the pillow he shared with Jude.

“I figured,” he whispered.

A moment of awkward silence rested in the room, and the distressing atmosphere made Castiel realize that he had never shared a private conversation with Clarence. All of their interactions revolved around Jude's constant presence. And now that Jude was asleep, it brought to light the stark reality and depth of Cas and Clare's distance. But Castiel did not want things to stay this way. More than anything, he wished to become closer with the being who held his child's heart. Especially after seeing everything Meg experienced, and knowing Clarence went through the same...

“How are you, Clarence?” Cas began.

He was hoping to gain a new perspective through Clarence's insight. Perhaps the demon, like Castiel, and was in need of a relieving conversation. Clare took a small breath and gently let it out.

“Fine,” he replied.

Surprisingly, there was pure honesty in Clarence's voice. It seemed the demon really was fine. Still, Castiel wondered...

“I know you have been through a lot,” the angel carefully proceeded, “If... if you ever need to talk to someone, I offer you my open heart and mind... When Jude is not available, that is.”

Clarence smiled brightly in the dim glow of Jude's nightlight.

“When Jude's not available?” he repeated, sounding humorously confused.

“Yes,” Castiel confirmed, “You two will be married by the end of the week, and I assume that you will bring all matters to him first. As you always have. I do not condemn that act, of course. On the contrary, I believe sharing hardships will strengthen your overall bond and love for each other... But, should you need an extra confidant, I promise to be here for you.”

The smile slowly dimmed on Clarence's face, revealing hints of understanding and awe.

“Thanks, man,” the demon replied quietly.

Castiel nodded. He hoped that he wasn't overstepping any boundaries by being in Jude's room for too long, or saying such blatant things. Luckily, it seemed like Clarence was glad to hear these messages. To allow the boys more rest, Castiel bowed his head and turned to leave again. But Clarence's whisper caught him a second time.

“Hey, Cas.”

The angel paused once more to look back and meet Clare's sight. The demon curled his arm tighter around Jude's back, bringing the two of them closer together on the small bed.

“I'm gonna take good care of him,” Clarence muttered passionately, “I promise.”

Warmth and pride radiated through Castiel's being as he stared down at the boys – his children – posed in a loving embrace. There was no doubt in Cas's mind that Clare would hold true to his oath.

“I know you will,” Castiel nodded, “Good night, Clarence. Perhaps we can discuss wedding details in the morning.”

The blonde demon smiled and nodded again, resembling a child on the eve of Christmas. Castiel finally backed out of the room, barely catching a glimpse of Clarence snuggling closer to Jude on the bed. He purposefully left the door slightly ajar, leaving it the way Jude had it before bed. Back in the hallway, Castiel looked around and exhaled slightly. Knowing that his son was in the protective arms of someone who loved him almost as much as Castiel did made the angel feel at peace. It seemed as though everyone in the bunker was with people who loved them.

All except one.

Castiel turned his sight down the corridor in the direction of the last few sets of guest rooms. He was fully aware that Meg was in one of them; led there by Clare, Jude, and Bobby earlier. His grace was able to detect the overwhelming sadness coming from her soul, like a wordless prayer. It seeped into the air like poison, weighing down the bunker's atmosphere with a heavy somber tone. Castiel couldn't let her sit in that state alone. Not while everyone else had company.

Taking in another breath, Cas ventured toward the hall of guest rooms. The closer he drew to the aisle of doors, the more he could sense Meg's pain – and hear the sound of a quiet argument. Upon rounding the corner, Castiel realized that he was hearing Crowley and Bobby. They were talking somewhere in the distance, perhaps from the dungeon downstairs, and their hissing voices were fairly audible.

“ _\- and she has no right to be here, let alone be at the bloody wedding!_ ” Crowley's voice spat, “ _She tossed the damn boy off a bridge! She's lucky she's not on my torture rack!_ ”

“ _Well, if it wasn't for her, we wouldn't have Clarence at all,_ ” Bobby pointed out in an equally bold tone, “ _She's his mother, Crowley. Clare can't just up and forget his mom. Look at_ you _! You and your mom are practically attached at the hip!_ ”

“ _Oh, now we're bringing my mother into this?!_ ” Crowley growled.

“You're _the one who brought your mother into this! She nearly killed Meg in my kitchen!_ ” Bobby fought.

“ _Well, someone bloody well ought to!_ ” Crowley argued.

Though the conversation went on, Castiel stopped listening. The toxic dispute of his relatives not only upset him but also seemed to increase Meg's suffering. Cas could sense it coming from the room nearby, where the door was wide open. With one more bracing breath, the angel cleared the distance to peer inside the dimly lit area.

Meg was sitting on the floor with her back against the bed behind her. A blanket was tossed loosely around her shoulders and cascaded into her lap, where she was holding onto a nearly empty bottle of alcohol. A lamp was lit on the dresser in the corner and Clarence's black guitar was propped near Meg. While Meg's eyes were set on the wall opposite her, they appeared heavily glazed. Her face was emotionless; a blank, but all-encompassing expression resting on her feminine features. The sound of Bobby and Crowley's argument was prominent in here as well. Clearly, Meg had been listening to the men fight over her for quite sometime. And her pain was hard to ignore.

Being as cautious and respectful as possible, Castiel strode into the room with Meg. Her eyes finally broke their hazy stare to watch him come in, of course. The angel decided to occupy the floor with the demon, sitting a few feet across from her with his back against the wall. Seeing him join her on the floor must have been amusing to Meg somehow, because another smile spread on her face and she raised her drink up to take a sip.

“Well. If it isn't Mrs. Dean Winchester himself,” Meg hummed, her voice sporting the same sarcastic tone that Castiel remembered from the past, “Did you bring a board game with you?”

“No,” Cas denied, “I came to check on you.”

Meg scoffed a little bit, which made Castiel narrow his eyes in wonder. Did Meg not see him as an ally? Or a friend? Because he certainly considered himself both. Especially when compared to everyone else in this bunker.

“You always were the sweet one,” Meg mentioned, raising her dark eyes back up again, “No need to get your panties in a twist over me, emo boy. I'm fine.”

Though Meg's words were cutting, her eyes told a different story. Pain practically oozed from them, and Castiel wished that he could take it away. He, too, bore witness to everything she saw in the study; the rapes, the drug-filled hazes, the abuse from strangers, the unbearable loneliness... Cas wanted to discuss what could be done, but was unsure if bringing up the painful memories was the best course of action. After a moment of silence, Meg steered the conversation toward a completely different topic.

“So. You and Dean made a kid,” she pointed out.

Castiel tilted his head a bit. Why did Meg sound so amused?

“Yes,” he answered.

“And how exactly did that happen?” she continued, “I mean, you've both got the same hardware, right? Last time I checked, meat-sword fighting was pretty much baby proof...”

It took a moment for Castiel to comprehend enough of Meg's jargon to figure what she was asking.

“Oh,” the angel realized, “It was fairly simple, actually. Dean's semen entered my grace during anal intercourse, resulting in the creation of our offspring -”

“Whoa,” Meg interrupted, holding both of her hands up in protest, “I – I really didn't need to know that... Geez, Cas. Still don't have a filter, do you?”

Again, Castiel was unaware of how to respond. He was starting to think that he was somehow ruining the conversation. Dean made talking to others look so easy. Cas greatly envied his husband's social skills in that moment... While he struggled to find some way to remedy the interaction, he noticed that Meg had gone woefully silent again. Her eyes had dropped down to her beer bottle and filled with shame.

“Still,” she mumbled faintly, “Sounds better than the way mine went...”

Meg was obviously referring to the conception of her own child. Once again, Castiel pictured the event in his mind from Meg's point of view; how she was bound to a mattress and taken advantage of repeatedly. How she was virtually unaware of the size of her stomach until she was left on the side of the road to sober up. Castiel could practically feel the panic she felt; thinking that her body was filled with wiggling worms. So afraid to look at what she pulled from her body. Utterly terrified that the sound of the high-pitched shriek would alert her captor of her whereabouts... Only to find out, years later, that she had given birth to a beautiful son. And feel even greater shame for ever leaving him...

“If I knew where that bastard was, I would gut him.”

Castiel looked up at Meg, seeing that her face was now twisted in anger as she glared toward the open door.

“Real slow,” she continued, her eyes oozing liquid as she clenched her jaw, “Unravel them right in front of his waking eyes. Peel the skin right off his body. Chop his dick off and shove it down his throat. I would make him pay for every ounce of pain he put us through -”

The sound of shattering glass interrupted Meg's sentence. It came from her lap, where the beer bottle in her hand snapped inside her tight grasp. Red blood immediately began to pool in the palm of her hand and Castiel's heart ached. Meg was already in enough psychological pain. She did not need to add any physical pain to it.

To ease her distress, Castiel stood, walked across the room, and kneel down to her level, taking her injured hand into his own. He healed the flesh wound with his grace, allowing the light to stop the bleeding and draw her skin back together. Her dark eyes were on his face the whole time, watching him in bewilderment as he healed her.

“The man who hurt you is dead,” Castiel informed, gently releasing Meg's hand.

“What?” she asked in disbelief.

“Your rapist,” Cas clarified, “He's dead. Several months ago, we captured him. He attempted to gain Clarence's trust, but Clarence resisted his advances. The man was slain, salted, and burned in his own home...”

The news seemed to upset Meg more. Her tears picked up pace and it looked like she was about to burst with anger. But Castiel attempted to sooth her.

“But even after all that man did, there is one positive aspect that came from it... and that is your _son_ ,” Cas reinforced with a warm tone, “Meg, Clarence loves you. He never wanted to hurt you. Not once. He has always been your greatest advocate. And I shall be one for you, also.”

Castiel's words seemed to lift Meg's spirits considerably. She took the time to wipe her face and regain her signature smirk before replying.

“You too, huh?” she muttered, “You'd slay a dragon for me?”

Castiel squinted his eyes.

“... If they were real, yes. I would,” the angel agreed.

His answer seemed to lighten Meg's mood even more. She bit down a laugh before shaking her head and finally looking him in the eye.

“Yep. You're married to Dean, alright. Can't deny that Winchester snark,” she mused.

Castiel leaned away to smile fondly at the floor. Did his words truly mimic Dean's? He would take that as a compliment any day... Now that the smile was back on Meg's face, Castiel felt that his job was done.

“Will you be alright?” the angel asked.

The demon scoffed dramatically.

“Tonight? Probably not,” she admitted, “But I'll get there... And thanks. For checking up on me.”

“Of course,” Castiel said, finally raising to his feet, “Goodnight, Meg. You are more than welcome to join us in the kitchen for breakfast in the morning, if you are feeling up to it.”

“Wow. This B and B must be five star. You offer turn down service, too?” she winked.

Castiel assumed that Meg was spouting sarcasm and decided to, as Dean would say, 'just roll with it.'

“Only if we are paid well enough,” the angel replied jokingly.

His response made Meg's eyes widen.

“Okay. 'Sarcastic Castiel' is starting to creep me out,” she smirked, “'Night, angel. Get out of here before your husband comes looking for you.”

Castiel smiled with a wave as he backed out of the room and gently shut the door. Not only did the air in the bunker feel lighter, but Cas's soul did, too. He was glad that Meg was feeling better. And being referred to as 'Mrs. Dean Winchester' and learning that he had gained many of Dean's attractive traits pleased Castiel beyond words. If Meg could see how much Cas loved Dean, then the rest of the world had to be aware of it, too. Their love must have shined like a beacon for all others; a glowing example of what a true relationship looked like...

Overcome with a fresh sense of love for his partner, Castiel quickly journeyed back to their bedroom. Dean was still asleep, snoring peacefully on the mattress with his limbs sprawled in all directions. The angel did his best to slide back into bed without jostling his husband, slowly easing down into the sheets to lay back beside him. But the slight movement was just enough to shake Dean awake. The man's green eyes fluttered open and looked around, catching sight of the angel laying next to him. He stirred from his sleep long enough to roll over and toss his arm back across Cas's torso, tucking his hand under the angel's back as he did every night.

“Mmph,” Dean mumbled against his pillow, “You okay, Cas?”

“Yes,” Castiel answered.

The angel stared into his husband's blinking green eyes, feeling an abundance of love. Dean could never fully understand the depth, width, and reach of Castiel's love for him. Because it was endless. And looking into his jade eyes – though they were still full of sleep – made Castiel yearn to show him. Being gentle, Cas raised up enough to bring his mouth to Dean's. He kissed the man as passionately as he could, raking both hands up into his spiked oak hair and rolling him onto his back for better access. After a moment of tasting Dean's tongue with his own, Cas raised his head to whisper.

“Would you slay a dragon for me, Dean?” the angel purred against his husband's lips.

He expected that Dean would be curious about why Castiel was asking such a seemingly bizarre question, but he didn't. His plump lips only smirked wildly as he ran his hands up and down Castiel's bare back.

“Baby, I'd slay _a hundred_ dragons for you,” he mumbled in a gruff voice.

Castiel grinned down at his husband, feeling a rush of warm emotions invade his body. He knew that Dean loved him, but hearing the confirmation of it again and again would never get old... After a moment Dean's smile dimmed.

“Wait. Am I dreamin' right now?” the man mumbled in confusion.

Castiel eased down to meet Dean's lips with his own again, reinforcing the reality of the moment they were sharing in their marriage bed.

“No, Dean,” Cas whispered, stroking the man's face with the back of his fingers, “This is very real...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jess and Ollie are having a girl! Yaaay! *releases pink confetti* :D Jessie is full of spoilers from her dreams, isn't she? She's got a pretty good head start on the 'parent' thing compared to poor Ollie. Mainly because she already knows some of what the future holds. ;D If I had to name the second part of this chapter, it would probably be something like “Castiel roams the bunker at night to comfort all the hearts.” XD I absolutely love writing in his POV, because he is so poetic and cares so deeply for everyone – especially his green-eyed hunter. ;) and I had a lot of fun writing the scene between him and Clarence. Before that, they never really had a moment alone together in this whole story, so I'm tempted to write more. (I'm sure that would make Jude happy, too) ;) Most importantly, I hope that _you_ enjoyed it! I absolutely love providing you with as much fluff and sweet stuff as possible, because you guys are the honey to my Castiel! XD *hugs* Thank you so much for reading and commenting! The next chapter will be out soon! :)


	8. Chapter 8

The heavenly scent of wood smoked, sizzling bacon stirred Dean out of a dead sleep. The smell practically hooked him by the nostrils and dragged him to a sitting position. Damn, that smelled good. The scent was seeping in through the open bedroom door and making his mouth water. Dean hazily turned to look at the spot next to him to search for his husband, like he did every morning, and found the bed next to him empty. Ah, that's right. Cas was probably the one responsible for making that amazing aroma. After all, his blue robe was missing from the headboard.

Wanting to greet his angel good morning and snag some fresh bacon, Dean tossed his legs over the bed, scratched his messy head of hair, grabbed his own robe from the other end of the headboard, and stood up to slide it on. He tied the front around his bare torso and underwear as he followed the smell of breakfast out the door and down the hall. The sound of chatter and laughter was so loud that Dean heard it before he even saw the kitchen doorway. It sounded like every soul in the bunker was crammed into the kitchen, all eating, talking, and laughing. And the idea brought a smile to Dean's face. He loved the thought of having a full kitchen; of having such a large family that a single room could barely contain every member. For the first half of Dean's life, it was mostly just him and Sam. Two brothers without any family to speak of. And now, they were gaining new members all the time. The bunker might as well have been a country club.

After adjusting his robe to cover himself up a little better and yawning, Dean finally made his way to the entrance of the kitchen to peer inside. The room was packed to the brim with people. Bobby and Gabriel were standing at the stove, creating a small assembly line as they cooked and passed out plates of food. The kitchen table was occupied by Sam, Jessica – who had a yellowish glow about her – Oliver, Jane, Michael, and Adam. The six of them were all talking and giggling about the new baby as Gabriel ferried food to them from across the room with Dickie running around at his ankles.

The metal island in the center of the room got most of Dean's attention, though. That was where his son Jude was sat next to Clarence, both with their backs to the door and facing the other side of the island – where Meg and Cas were sitting next to each other. The sight actually stopped the bacon-induced saliva flow in Dean's mouth and turned his stomach sour. Not only were Meg and Cas sitting together – and smiling and talking like it was a normal day – but Meg was drinking out of Dean's favorite Men of Letters mug... and she was wearing Cas's blue robe.

If Dean had Superman's heat vision, his glare would have already burned a hole straight through Meg's black heart. How dare she sit there, in Dean's kitchen, drinking from his mug and wearing his husband's robe! The sight both infuriated him _and_ broke his heart. Because, as he stood there silently in the doorway, Dean realized that no one else in the room had noticed his presence. They were all blissfully lost in their own conversations, unaware – or uncaring – of the fact that he wasn't among them. But worse was seeing that smile on Cas's face, and knowing that _Meg_ had put it there. Cas was happy. Jude and Clare were happy. Everyone in the whole damn room was happy. And they were happy without Dean.

_Just like it should be_.

It had been so long since Dean heard John Winchester's voice in his head that the sudden sound of it hit him like a gut punch that nearly folded him in half. Holy shit, that hurt. But it was _true_. John was right. This was the way things always should have been. Not just because everyone was happy... but because Cas was with a woman. With Meg. Dean never gave Cas the chance to experiment; to go out, try being with the opposite gender, live a societal 'normal' existence. No, Dean took him and knocked him up without so much as a warning. ' _And now it's coming back to bite you in the ass, isn't it, Dean?_ ' his dad's voice asked. Yeah. It was. Because Cas was finally getting a taste of what it was like to be close to a woman, and he was _happy_.

Even as Dean's mind was assaulted with thoughts narrated by John Winchester, his presence was finally noticed. Cas's ocean eyes caught sight of him and widened dramatically. The angel instantly sprang up from the island, grabbed a near by mug, and headed toward his husband. Dean barely had enough time to notice that Cas was wearing one of his Led Zeppelin t-shirts and plaid pajama pants before he was greeted with the angel's moist lips. Unfortunately, Dean barely felt the kiss, because he knew he was unworthy of having it...

“Hello, Dean,” Cas smiled, holding up the mug, “Here is your coffee. Would you like some breakfast?”

Dean was unable to find his voice, due to his own thoughts knocking the wind out of him. His eyes only flickered between Cas and the metal island behind him, where Meg was keeping one eye on their interaction while she spoke with Clare and Jude. Cas noticed Dean's line of sight and falsely assumed that Dean was noticing the outfits.

“Oh. Meg did not have a change of clothing after her shower this morning, so I let her borrow my robe,” the angel explained, “Jane said she would get more clothing for her later... Dean? Are you alright?”

Dean attempted to swallow but his mouth was too dry. Oh, God. Meg had showered in their house. _Meg_ had been _naked_ inside their house! _Inside Cas's robe_! Before Dean could form a cohesive answer, Bobby's voice found its way to them through the noise of chatter.

“Hey, Cas,” the old man called from across the room as he struggled to lift a few plates, “Come and help me with these pancakes, would ya?”

Cas nodded at Bobby, but paused to look back at Dean. There was a hint of concern in Cas's eyes, as if he could tell that there was something wrong with Dean – which was absolutely true – though he didn't say anything. The angel only patted his husband's arm before walking away to assist Bobby at the counter. Dean watched him go, his eyes dropping down Cas's back to eye the angel's ass.

' _Sodomizer_ ,' John's voice spitefully accused.

Overcome with a mixture of displacement, guilt, and raw anger toward Meg, Dean took a few steps back out of the kitchen. He stood in the corridor with the warm mug of coffee in hand, simply looking over his family from a distance. Despite his arrival, they were still happy. Still content whether he was there or not. Still content with Meg in the room, even after all she had done. Dean's sight focused back on the female demon sitting at the island, watching her take yet another sip from his favorite mug as her eyes stayed fixed on Cas moving around her. She had no right to sit there, in Dean's spot. She had no right to be anywhere near Clarence after what she did to him; everything she said to him. Yet, there she was. And it was making Dean _furious_.

“Not right, is it?”

Dean looked toward the left at the sound of Crowley's voice. The king of hell was leaning against the wall with both of his hands in his pockets. It looked like he had been standing there for sometime, deliberately protesting breakfast.

“Rather sickening, if you ask me,” the demon grumbled, glaring toward the kitchen doorway, “The bitch throws her child from a bridge, and now they're eating together with pleasant smiles... Almost makes you want to cause a scene.”

Dean gulped and looked back to the lively kitchen. For once, Dean agreed with the king of hell. None of this felt right. Meg wasn't supposed to be in the bunker at all. Dean and Cas's son was about to have a wedding in a few days, and her presence was ruining it. God, was there anything her touch didn't ruin? While he sided with Crowley on the matter, Dean didn't have the heart, nor the balls, to admit it. John's voice was enough of a weight to carry, let alone the joint approval from Crowley.

Without a word, Dean turned to head toward a different part of the bunker to be alone. Though he was still carrying the mug of coffee, he didn't take a single sip.

* * *

“What about doves?” Papa asked, his blue eyes moving between Jude and Clare with curiosity, “I've heard that some cultures release doves or pigeons during special occasions, such as weddings and funerals. I assume the act is supposed to be symbolic in some way. I can try to acquire some, if you'd like.”

Jude shared an equally humorous glance with his fiance and bit his bottom lip to keep from laughing. The idea of Pop chasing down and trapping live birds was absolutely hilarious. Clare lifted his glass to hide his smile as he took a sip of orange juice.

“Well, we're gonna be indoors, Cas. I don't think releasing doves will be a good idea,” Clare carefully pointed out.

“Yes,” Crowley agreed, finally joining them at the table, “There will already be one live animal at this wedding. No need for more.”

Jude giggled, figuring that uncle Crowley was referring to Dickie. But the lack of humor on Crowley's face, coupled with the severe look uncle Bobby gave him, suggested otherwise. Maybe he was talking about Meg, instead...

It was nearly one o'clock in the day, which left only five people in the kitchen from breakfast. Jude, Clare, and Jude's papa were sitting at the cluttered table while Bobby and Crowley stood nearby. All of them were attempting to sort through the wedding plans together; making sure they had everything they needed, discussing when to set up the decorations, managing the guest list, and trying to decide the best time to have it.

“I still say we have it a few days early,” Bobby mumbled as he swished his coffee around in his mug, “Sounds like Jessie'll be havin' that baby pretty close to Friday, and we don't want it to interrupt the wedding.”

“That's true,” Papa agreed, looking back to Jude and Clare, “We already have all of the major necessities. Perhaps we could have the wedding on Wednesday instead.”

“That's the day after tomorrow,” Clare realized out loud.

Jude perked up a little at the sound of that. He really enjoyed the thought of marrying Clarence a little early. He did not, however, like the thought of having to speak in front of a room full of his entire family... Still, when Clarence turned to give him a look full of excitement, Jude couldn't help but embrace the butterflies in his stomach.

“What do you say, Jay?” the handsome demon grinned, “Wanna get married in about forty-eight hours?”

How could Jude ever deny those pretty emerald-chestnut eyes?

“Okay,” the angel mumbled with a smile.

“Okay,” Clare smirked, turning back to the adults, “Wednesday it is.”

For some reason, Crowley looked highly upset by this news. Then again, he had been wearing the same scowl ever since Meg showed up, so it was hard to tell if it was any different.

“And what about the event you planned to have _after_ the wedding?” the demon king asked, “It's too late to change the reservations.”

Jude's eyebrows scrunched together as he looked from Crowley back to Clarence. Reservations? Jude hadn't heard of any reservations...

“What's he talking about?” Jude asked his fiance.

Clare sighed heavily and tossed Crowley a look of exhaustion.

“Way to go, man. It was supposed to be a surprise,” he grumbled.

“What surprise?” Jude asked, his excitement recharging in an instant.

Clare's eyes returned to Jude's and his smirk slowly grew back.

“I... I planned out a honeymoon for us,” the blonde demon admitted, holding up a finger, “but I'm not telling you where. And _nobody else_ is going to tell you either. _Right_?”

“Affirmative,” Papa agreed, looking to Jude, “Your father and I helped Clarence arrange this surprise and I would very much like to see your reaction once it begins.”

Jude felt super anxious – but also kind of left out. After they got engaged, Jude and Clare both agreed that a honeymoon was too expensive to go on. But now that he knew Clare had planned one anyway, Jude wanted to know all about it! It wasn't fair that everyone else knew about it except for him. Still, Jude understood that it was for his and Clare's benefit. Besides, Clare planned it out himself. And if he was involved, it was bound to be a good time...

“Speaking of beginning,” Bobby spoke up as he sat his mug on the counter, “We better head back to the house and start gatherin' up all the stuff we're gonna need, if we're havin' the wedding early.”

“Excellent idea, darling,” Crowley agreed, gesturing toward Clare, “Come on, boy. Mother will need to finish hemming your suit.”

“Alright,” Clare accepted as he slowly stood up from the table, “Jay? You wanna come along?”

Usually, Jude's immediate answer would have been 'yes.' Hanging out with Clarence was his favorite thing to do. But there were also a few other things on Jude's pre-wedding 'to-do' list that he really needed to get done. Starting with a chat with his pregnant cousin.

“Actually, I think I'd better check on Jessie,” Jude admitted, “I haven't really gotten to talk to her yet.”

“Good call,” Clare nodded.

“So we're ready to go, then?” Crowley asked.

“Hold on,” Clare halted.

The blonde demon turned away from his parents long enough to swoop an arm around Jude's back and pull him close for a kiss. Jude's eyes closed and he indulged briefly in the sensation. Luckily, the act was so powerful and quick that Jude didn't even have time to register that other people were watching. By the time Clare pulled away, Jude's lips were tingling and his mind was floating on a cloud of warm emotions.

“Love you, Jaybird,” Clare hummed, “See you in a little bit.”

“L – love you, too,” Jude stuttered.

He was able to see Clare smirk and wink just before Crowley's cloud of smoke stole him from the room. Bobby and the two demons were gone, leaving only Jude and his papa behind in the kitchen. Pop eventually stood up and placed a hand on Jude's shoulder.

“While I am not allowed to disclose the location of your honeymoon, Jude, I will say I am ninety-two percent certain that you will love it,” Papa smiled warmly.

“Just ninety-two percent?” Jude repeated in confusion.

“Yes. Deliberately leaving room for error, of course,” Papa answered.

The older angel leaned forward to kiss the side of the younger's head, leaving a smile on both of their faces. Afterward, Papa gave Jude's shoulder a single pat before leading the way toward the exit. In the hall, Jude and his Papa took different directions. While Pop headed toward the control room, Jude started the journey to Jess's room.

Even before he rounded the hallway to get to the bedrooms, Jude could hear the sound of Jess, Ollie, and uncle Gabe's voices – as well as some mild Spanish ramblings, which had to be from Ms. Jane. The bedroom door was wide open, so Jude assumed he was welcome to join.

Inside, Jessie was relaxing on her bed with a box of cereal. She was eating handfuls of it in a sitting position, with her legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. Meanwhile, Ollie, uncle Gabe, and Jane were all sitting on the floor together, huddled around a pile of wooden planks.

“I don't think these instructions are right,” Ollie grumbled, scratching his orange hair as he narrowed his eyes at the paper in his hand, “It says we need the big screws, but there aren't any big screws.”

“Forget the screws. Where are the bumper thingys?” Gabe asked.

Ms. Jane shouted something in Spanish as she tossed a screwdriver across the room and crossed her arms in defeat.

Jude backed up to stay out of their way as he journeyed to his cousin's bed. He figured that they must have been trying to put together a baby crib and he didn't want to disturb them. When Jess saw him coming, her eyes widened and she smiled.

“Jude! Hey! Come and sit with me,” she grinned, holding up the box in her hand, “Want some cereal?”

“Uh, no thanks,” Jude politely denied, easing down onto the bed next to her, “How are you feeling, Jess?”

“Eh, pretty good. Just hungry,” she shrugged.

While Jessie scarfed another handful of food, Jude spared a glance toward her stomach. Even though it was covered by her shirt, Jude could see that his cousin's stomach was sill glowing gold. Jess's usually flat tummy was rounded now too, a few inches larger than normal. Jude was in awe of how fast her pregnancy was coming along. Did it really only take Papa and uncle Gabe a few days to have him and Jessie, too? Angel pregnancies were so strange... and amazing.

“That's it. I give up,” uncle Gabe grumbled, climbing to his feet, “Oliver, Jane, stand back for a second.”

Oliver and Jane did as Gabe requested, both tossing down the items in their hands and climbing to their feet. Once they were up, uncle Gabe snapped his fingers – and the entire crib started to put itself together. The wooden planks and rods all lined up, screws and bolts drilled themselves into place, and the small mattress rose up and dropped down perfectly in the center. Jane and Oliver both watched it with slack jaws and wide eyes, both in awe of the magical show. When the small fabric mobile delicately dangled itself over the fully constructed crib, Jane looked to uncle Gabe in wonder.

“Wow,” she mused, “Wait, you could have done that this whole time?”

“Uh... yes?” Gabe answered nervously, “I wanted to give it a shot with my bare human hands first. But, clearly, I'm no match for woodwork.”

“Well, at least that's finished. Thanks, Gabe. One less thing to worry about,” Ollie beamed.

“But far from the last,” Jane added, glancing down at her watch, “Almost time for work. Oh, I wish I didn't have to go.”

“I could cause a 'natural disaster' so you don't have to go to work, if you want,” Gabe offered, briefly shining his grace from his hands.

“Gracias, Gabe. But it's inventory week, so I must,” Jane sighed.

After tidying up her black hair, Ms. Jane walked over to the bed to kiss Jessie's forehead. She bent down to peck a kiss to Jess's belly too, and even leaned over to kiss Jude's temple, which made him smile. Uncle Gabe got a kiss on the cheek from her, but Ollie received the biggest kiss of all; a long hug and smooch on his freckled face.

“Muah,” she hummed, letting go of her son to look at everyone in the room, “I love all of you!”

“Love you too, Jane,” everyone replied from their various spots.

“I'll walk you out,” Gabe offered, following her to the door, “Gotta find out where my moose ran off to. See you in a minute, Jessie-rabbit!”

When the two oldest adults left the room, Jude was surprised to hear sighs of relief from his friends. Ollie walked over and plopped himself down on the edge of the bed, looking extremely tired. And Jessie shared a look of exhaustion with Jude.

“They've been following us around ever since we got back home,” she explained.

“I get that they're excited, but do they have to be right next to us twenty-four seven?” Ollie added.

Jude didn't realize that his friends were craving a moment to themselves. Perhaps it was a hint that he shouldn't be there...

“If... If you guys need some space, I can go -”

“No,” Jess denied, instantly grabbing Jude's hand to stop him from getting up, “It's just Papa and Jane. You know how happy and clingy they get.”

“Yeah. It's actually nice to see you, Jude,” Ollie smiled, patting Jude's shoulder, “Hey, did you know that Jess and I are going to have a baby?”

Jude and Jessica both giggled at the humorous comment. Everyone on the planet knew about the baby by now. Still, when Jude glanced back down at his cousin's stomach, he felt a strange sense of curiosity. Jess got pregnant so fast...

“How did you guys do it?” Jude blurted, his face instantly turning red, “I mean, I – I'm not asking how you 'did it.' I just mean the baby. Were you trying to get pregnant, or – ?”

Oliver's high-pitched laugh cut through the rest of Jude's question.

“Absolutely not,” Ollie said with a head shake, “At least, _I_ wasn't trying. Jess, were you?”

“No way!” Jess denied, also shaking her head as she munched on another handful of cereal, “It just happened. I mean, I guess it's kind of my fault, because I did the grace thing. But I swear I didn't know it would make a baby.”

“Grace thing?” Jude repeated.

“Yeah,” Ollie answered, “Jess had her angel light on when we were... you know.”

“And Papa said that having your grace out during sex is almost guaranteed to make a baby,” Jess added.

Jude gulped as his eyes dropped back to Jessica's glowing stomach. The knowledge that sex with angel grace was guaranteed to make a baby was invaluable information. Since he was about to marry the man of his dreams, Jude felt like he was probably going to need it at some point...

“I still say we name her Buttercup,” Ollie mentioned quietly.

Jude turned to give his friend a weird look. Buttercup? Why in the world would he pick that name? Jessica groaned out loud.

“For the last time, we're not naming our daughter after the princess in The Princess Bride,” Jess grumbled, reaching down to cradle her belly, “Besides, I want to give her a family name.”

“Yeah. Winchester. That's the family name,” Ollie pointed out.

“I mean, I want to name her after someone in the family,” Jessica corrected.

“Uh, Jess, honey,” Ollie began sheepishly, “Not to burst your bubble, but you're like the only girl in your family.”

“Oh yeah?” Jess challenged, raising an eyebrow as she gestured toward Jude, “We could name her _Judy_.”

“Please don't,” Jude cringed, “I hate that name...”

“Or Gabriella, after your Pop,” Ollie realized.

“Or Sam,” Jess continued, “Though, that one is pretty boring. No offense to dad...”

“Or Cassie,” Ollie went on, “Or Deanna. Or Dixie, instead of Dickie!”

Jessica and Jude both chuckled a bit. Converting all of the masculine names into feminine versions was pretty fun. Still, Jess's smile faded a bit as she looked back to her own belly.

“None of those sound right, though,” she mentioned, “but we're close. I can feel it...”

“Who else are we lacking?” Ollie said, “There's Clare, Bobby, Crowley, Rowena... I think that's it...”

“And Grandpa,” Jude reminded quietly.

As soon as he mentioned their grandfather, Jessica gasped and jolted to sit up straight. Her eyes had gone wide like she had just remembered something important.

“That's it!” she grinned, glancing between Jude and Oliver, “That's her name!”

“Uh... Grandpa?” Ollie asked, sounding confused.

“No,” Jess said, looking back to her belly as she gently rubbed it, “... Charlie. Her name is Charlie, after Grandpa Chuck.”

Oliver gasped and slowly reached out to join his hands with Jess's on her belly.

“Charlie!” Ollie grinned, “Holy crap, I love that name!”

“Charlie Jane,” Jess added, beaming up at her husband with tear filled eyes and a bright smile, “Charlie Jane Winchester.”

“ _Yes_!” Ollie agreed, “That sounds like a superhero name!”

It felt like Jude's heart was glowing in his chest as he watched his two best friends fawn over their newly-named unborn child. He loved hearing the excitement in their voices as they cooed down at Jess's belly, speaking to their baby as if she was already sitting among them. Jess and Ollie were happily blessed with a new marriage _and_ a new baby...

And Jude hoped that he and Clarence would be blessed the same way.

* * *

Dean spent most of his day in the bunker garage with the radio turned up to the highest volume he could get away with. There was simply too much emotional shit going on in his life and he felt he needed to drown out all the noise in his head. Instead of spending time with his family – which he knew, in his heart, he _should_ have been doing – Dean decided to wash, dry, and polish his Impala. The job only took him about an hour to finish, so he moved on to Jude's Impala next. He figured that staying busy and jamming to music would help him forget about his crappy morning.

But it didn't.

In fact, the more he tried to push away the thought of Meg, the more it stuck to him; like repeatedly stepping in a piece of chewed gum. It was bad enough that she was even in Dean's home, but to be that close to Cas? That close to _Clarence_? Dean didn't understand why Clare was tolerating her at all. Dean was there the day that they first met under the bridge. He saw, with his own eyes, how Meg physically pushed Clarence away. How she called him 'it' and told him that she tried to kill him. How she clung to Cas's coat and looked at him like he meant everything to her. Dean could still see – still _feel_ – what happened that day. How could anyone forget it? Especially the people she hurt so much?

With both Impalas shining but his head still a wreck, Dean eventually turned off the radio and headed for the kitchen. His next course of action was finding a stiff drink to help ease his headache. The halls of the bunker were empty and there were very few sounds, which made him feel worse. Part of him wanted to find Cas but the other part felt unworthy to even look at him.

“ _Because you don't deserve Cas, do you?_ ” John's voice was back again, meaner than ever, “ _Real men fight for what they deserve._ ”

“I do fight for him,” Dean mumbled under his breath.

Thankfully, his vocal reply seemed to shut his father up for the moment. Aggravated and distraught, Dean stomped into the bunker kitchen and made a B line for the fridge. On the way, however, he caught sight of someone sitting at the table – and the raging fire in his gut grew. Ugh, it was her. The very person he had been thinking about all day. Meg was there, sitting at the table alone with a beer in her hand. She wasn't wearing Cas's robe anymore – thank Chuck – but instead, a silky black top and dark blue jeans. Jane's hand-me-downs, of course. The very sight of her made Dean sick.

Although he felt like fighting her, Dean attempted to ignore Meg and focus on getting his drink. He was hoping that the two of them could somehow exist in the same space without having to notice each others' presence, for Cas and Clare's sake. But, of course, she had other plans...

“So, our sons are getting married...”

Dean took several long gulps of the beer from the fridge as he listened to Meg's voice. Really? She was going to try to start a conversation with him? After everything she had done? After his drink, Dean clinched his jaw and glared at the shelves of the fridge. At first, he was just going to ignore her - but then, John's voice came back. ' _Real men fight for what they deserve_...' Dean spun around to glare at Meg from across the room.

“You don't have a son,” Dean remarked coolly.

The semi-warm look on Meg's face fell flat. She looked confused at first, but then carefully regained her smirk.

“... Well, he came out of my body,” she reminded.

“No, no,” Dean argued, wagging his finger, “You _ripped_ him out of your body. And then you balled him up in a jacket. And tossed him over a bridge. To die.”

That sentence really hurt her. Dean could see it in her eyes. All the humor was gone and replaced with pain.

“I – I know,” she gulped.

“Do you?” Dean continued, slowly stepping closer, “Do you _really_ know? How the women who found him in the river burned alive when he was eight? How he grew up homeless on the street?”

Meg's eyes narrowed in disbelief.

“What?” she asked.

“Clare was homeless. And addicted to drugs. Because of _you_ ,” Dean repeated in a growl, “He had to fight to stay alive every day. Stealing. And running. And hiding. And being _raped_ -”

“You're _lying_ ,” Meg accused, jumping up from the table to glare daggers into Dean.

“Ask him,” Dean barked, pointing toward the door, “Go ahead. He'll tell you the truth. How do you think he ended up with us? Because he went looking for _you_. He spent his whole damn life chasing you down, and guess what? You shattered his heart. And then _we_ were left to pick up the pieces – ”

“S – stop,” Meg hissed, her dark eyes filling with tears.

“So, no. You don't have a son. Clarence belongs to _us_ ,” Dean spat, “And I swear, if you ever hurt him again – or try to do anything to my son or _my_ _husband –_ I will hunt you down and I will kill you. Got it?”

Meg didn't answer. She just stood there with tears in her eyes, looking like a heartbroken child. After several seconds of being glared at, the demon took a shaky step back, tore her sight away from Dean, and left the room with a soft whimper. Dean watched her go, hearing the sound of her tears exit with her.

“ _Good job, son_ ,” John's voice praised in his mind.

Dean had done it. He had fought for the safety and well-being of his family. He fought for what he deserved, just like his old man wanted. But even with Meg gone, Dean didn't feel better in the slightest.

In fact, he felt even worse than before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *quickly slides into riot gear* Yes, folks, we've reached the lowest, most emotionally-challenging part of the story. Please don't hurt me too badly! *braces for multiple assaults* I believe that, even in the show, John's voice is probably the mouthpiece for Dean's doubt and anxiety. And whenever that bastard starts talking, Dean ends up making all the wrong choices. :( When I was writing this chapter, I realized that Dean was sort of acting like Woody from the first Toy Story. Meg is Buzz, Cas is Andy, and Dean is jealous as hell. ;) I think it's funny how even though Meg hasn't done much of anything since her reappearance, every other character views her from drastically different perspectives. Cas sees her as a forlorn friend, Crowley sees her as a selfish whore, Clare sees her as a mom in the making, and Dean sees her as his potential replacement who has come to steal his family away. Weird how humans all react differently to things, huh? :) And speaking of characters, in case you couldn't tell, Ollie and Jess's little girl is kind of like Charlie Bradbury reincarnated. XD (Get it? 'cause she's a girl? With red hair? From Supernatural? It's all connected!) ;D By the way, spoiler alert, Clarence will probably call her 'C.J.' XD With all that said, I hope that this chapter wasn't too emotional for you, and that you will continue the story to see how it goes. ;) Thank you all so much for blessing me every week with your amazing and thoughtful comments! I absolutely love hearing your individual stories. :) Thank you so much for touching my heart! :) The next chapter will be out soon! :)


	9. Chapter 9

Instead of chasing after Meg or going back to the garage, Dean took his beer and plopped himself at the kitchen table. Right where she had been sitting. There was a pain in his chest that felt like a heavy rock, weighing him down and making it hard to move. So rather than carry it through the bunker, he settled for taking shelter right there in his favorite room.

Dean honestly thought that telling Meg off would make him feel better. He was sure that getting her out of his home would clear the air so he could breathe easy again. But that look on her face, along with the sound of John's approval in his head, made Dean feel like absolute _shit_. The worst part was that he couldn't figure out _why_. Did he feel bad because he had deliberately broken someone else's heart? Or because he sounded so much like his old man when he said it? Yeah, maybe... Or maybe it was because he could already sense the shitstorm he was going to catch from the rest of the family for doing it...

Dean sat there for what felt like an hour, in the disturbingly confining silence of the empty kitchen, before someone else showed up. It took all the strength he had to pry his hazy eyes from the wall and look over to see who had come in. The sight of Cas's familiar dark hair and tan coat suddenly added more weight to the rock in Dean's chest. Oh, shit. Cas wasn't going to be happy about the fact that Dean made his new favorite friend leave. Despite the thought, the angel still smiled at the man as he entered the room – before looking around. Yep. Cas was doing it already. He was already searching for Meg.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas hummed, stepping over to pause by the table, “Have you seen Meg?”

Damn. That was quick. Not even a 'Hi, how are you, honey?' ' _Because he loves Meg now,_ ' John's voice reminded, ' _You're not important anymore. How many times do I have to tell you that? God, son, stop being so stupid_.'

Dean shot up from the table and turned toward the metal island. Though he hadn't taken a drink from it for close to twenty minutes, Dean took his beer with him and clanked it on the counter. He was attempting to make some kind of motion or noise, any sound or action that would drown out his thoughts. And while he didn't want to hurt Cas with the truth, Dean found himself incapable of lying to his husband.

“Yeah,” Dean grumbled, “She was here. But I'm pretty sure she left.”

There was a second of silence from Cas's part of the room. The news probably hurt him. Dean couldn't bring himself to look over and see Cas's reaction, though. He was already in pain and he knew that Cas's pretty face would only make it worse.

“Left?” the angel repeated, “You mean, she left the bunker? Before the wedding? Why would she...?”

Cas's voice trailed off but Dean kept his back turned. He only blinked toward the oven, eying the black and white ' _home sweet home_ ' text on the dishtowel hanging from the horizontal handle. After a moment, the sound of Cas's footsteps came closer.

“Dean,” the angel said lowly, “Look at me.”

Although the rock in his chest was attempting to hold him in position, Dean took a sip from his room-temperature beer and finally turned to look his husband in the eye. The overwhelming shade of sapphire nearly took Dean's breath away, like it did every time. Cas's eyes were searching Dean's face – searching his soul – and slowly turning suspicious. The longer they stared at each other, the more Cas could see the truth leaking from underneath Dean's stoic mask. Dean could never lie to Cas. He couldn't even attempt it. Dean's entire existence was utterly naked before the angel's sight.

“What did you do?” Cas asked, his voice low and full of disappointment.

Even though he knew what he did was wrong, Dean couldn't resist the urge to defend himself.

“I did what had to be done, okay?” he grumbled, “Meg needed to know what happened to Clarence. I didn't sugar coat anything, like the rest of you have been doing. I told her, word for word, what he told us -”

Dean's statement was interrupted by Cas's loud sigh of frustration. The angel hung his head and shook it in aggravation before looking back up in anger.

“Dean, that was not your place,” the angel stated, voice even lower, “It is Clarence's decision whether or not to tell his mother what happened to him -”

“She's not his mother!” Dean spat.

“Yes, Dean, she is,” Cas challenged, stepping closer, “She pulled Clarence from her womb, just as I pulled Jude from mine. Besides, your opinion of her parental status is moot. Meg his here of her own volition, and is attempting to make amends with her only child. How dare you stand in the way of that.”

“How dare _I_?” Dean challenged, his rage spiking, “How dare _she_ walk into our lives and screw things up again, huh? Everything was fine until she showed up!”

“Dean, she hasn't done anything!” Cas argued, “She just came to thank Clarence for saving her and then -”

The noise of running footsteps coming toward the kitchen paused the couple's heated conversation. Both of them looked toward the doorway to see their grown son stop and look inside. There was a sense of dread and fear on Jude's face as he glanced between his parents.

“Pop, Dad, I can't find my wedding suit,” Jude huffed, his voice full of frenzy, “It was in my closet, but I just went to get it out and try it on, but it's not there anymore!”

“It's alright, son,” Cas instantly comforted, voice much calmer than before, “Jane took your suit to be dry cleaned this morning. When she brought it back, I placed it in the laundry room.”

Dean watched relief flood Jude's face as the kid took a deep breath and let it out – and the sight was kind of familiar. It caused a memory to flash in Dean's mind, of when Jude was about eight years old. The whole family had gone to the local theater to watch a movie, and during the show, Jude kept hunkering behind Dean's arm. Dean didn't think much of his son's actions until it was time for bed that night. Jude, having spent the rest of the day silent, finally broke down and confessed that he was scared. He wasn't just scared of the movie they saw, but even more scared of admitting it to his parents. Jude was so afraid that Dean and Cas would think less of him for 'acting like a baby', that he would rather bottle up his fear and hold it down for as long as he could. Dean fondly remembered taking Jude in his arms and explaining that he never had to do that. Jude was so relieved to hear that it was okay to be scared. ' _Everyone gets afraid sometimes, little man_ ,' Dean told his son, ' _There's no shame in being afraid._ '

Of course, that was the exact opposite of what Dean had been taught as a child. John Winchester didn't tolerate fear of any kind. Only self control. ' _You got scared of a movie?_ ' John would scoff, ' _Too damn bad. You're too old for a nightlight. Shut the hell up and go to sleep_.' Dean learned from a young age to hide his own fear. He couldn't let John or Sammy see him trembling. He had to be a man. And men weren't scared of anything. So Dean covered up his fear with anger. Because if there was one thing that made monsters run away in fright, it was an angry man.

All of this flew through Dean's mind in less than thirty seconds. His eyes were still on Jude, but had softened considerably. By the time Jude thanked his papa and walked away, Dean was left blindsided by his sudden realization. Dean wasn't angry with Meg. He was _afraid_ of her; afraid of what she could do if she weaseled her way between him and Cas. If anyone could make Cas realize that Dean wasn't worth his time, it was her. Meg had so much to offer him; A brand new life full of things he had never experienced before. Why wouldn't Cas jump at the chance to exchange Dean for Meg?

When Jude left, Cas took a large breath and slowly turned to face Dean again. Disappointment and irritation were still settled in his expression, but it seemed like he was out of words. Dean took the moment's pause to try and figure out what to say. A voice spoke in his mind again, but it wasn't John's. This time, it was his own. ' _Tell him the damn truth!_ ' Dean yelled at himself, ' _Act like a kid for once and just be honest!_ '

“I'm afraid you're gonna leave me.”

The words fell out of Dean's mouth before he could even register that they were his own. But the statement was like a pin hammer swing that broke the dam of his feelings wide open. Words just started pouring out, one right after another, faster than Dean could keep up.

“I don't deserve you,” Dean blurted, searching Cas's eyes as he felt his own swelling with tears, “I never have. This life we've got is too good to be true, and now Meg has come to take you away from me. She's trying to take my place in your life. But I'm selfish. I don't want to give you up. That's why I told her about Clarence. I made her upset so that she would leave and I could keep you for a little while longer. Just a little while. I don't want to wake up from this dream, Cas. I don't want to lose you or Jude. And I'm _scared_. So scared that you won't need me or want me anymore. That you'll take your heart away from me and give it to someone else. But I _need_ you. Cas, you're – you're my whole life. If you leave me, then... God, _don't leave me_.”

Dean's legs were about to buckle, so he quickly reached out to grip handfuls of Cas's coat to remain standing. He clawed his way into Cas's embrace, clinging to the angel as if he was going to disappear into thin air at any moment. Despite all the horrible things Dean said, Cas's arms still circled tightly around his back. The angel hugged the man and began to shift around, guiding him toward the table beside them. Once there, Cas gently pushed Dean downward to make him sit – probably because he knew Dean's legs were too weak to support him.

Cas's soft hands slid up to take Dean's face and turn it toward his own. With tears still in his eyes, Dean gulped and gazed up at the angel from the lower angle, seeing the overhead light perfectly outline his angelic silhouette. Then, without a word, Cas leaned down to engulf Dean's lips with his own; kissing him hard, slow, and passionately while he cradled the back of Dean's head. To Dean, it was less like a kiss and more like mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. The taste of Cas's tongue rubbing against his own brought Dean back to life. It pumped blood back into his tender heart and revived his lungs with Cas's breath. Only after swiping the moisture of tears away from Dean's cheeks did Cas finally, carefully pull back just enough to whisper.

“Dean Winchester,” the angel breathed, shaking his head as he petted Dean's hair, “What will it take to make you realize how much you mean to me?”

Dean couldn't say anything, because he honestly didn't know the answer. Luckily, Cas went on, continuously raking his fingers through Dean's spiked hair as he spoke.

“That song you claimed as ours,” Cas hummed, his lips so close that they nearly brushed against Dean's, “What does it say? 'Like a river flows, surely to the sea...?”

Dean gulped again, realizing that Cas was quoting Elvis. Dean always said that 'Can't Help Falling in Love' was their song, and it surprised him that Cas even remembered it. After regaining some verbal function, he finished the lyric.

“Darling, so it goes... Some things are meant to be,” Dean wheezed.

A smile stretched across Cas's face, making his blue eyes look so damn beautiful.

“Yes,” he confirmed with a warm smile, “We are meant to be, Dean. As sure as the moon rotates around the Earth. As sure as time will continue to march forward. As sure as our son's heart beats... Dean, there is no other being, in this universe or any other, that I would rather live with, love, and die for than _you_. I have loved you from the moment I first laid eyes on you in Hell, and I will continue to love you long after the sun burns out and the galaxy unravels. No one – _no one_ – could ever replace you. Dean, I only have one heart, and it has been in your possession ever since I fell from grace and into your arms. No one can take it from you. I fall in love with you again and again _every single day_. You're my soul mate. My lover. My caretaker. My dearest friend. My husband. Dean, you are everything to me. What will it take to make you understand that?”

Of course, Dean couldn't answer. He was blubbering like a baby in Cas's arms; crying and biting his lip to keep in sobs, trying to see Cas properly through the tears. Holy shit, Cas really knew how to phrase everything so perfectly. Dean's heart was thumping in his chest, sending emotion like warm whiskey through his veins. Damn. Cas must have really loved him. Maybe, deep down, Dean already knew that. And that's why he felt so bad about telling Meg the truth... Dean sniffled a bit, finally getting his water works to stop as he clung to Cas's hips.

“I... I'm sorry,” he mumbled, curling his fingers into the fabric of Cas's white shirt, “I'm sorry if I hurt you, Cas. Sometimes, my damn thoughts get the best of me...”

“It's alright, Dean. I understand,” Cas hummed.

“I didn't mean to hurt Meg that bad,” Dean admitted, “I just didn't want her to take you away.”

“She could never do that, Dean. No one ever could,” Cas replied, still gently running his finger's through Dean's hair, “But if we do not make this right, Clarence will be very upset. And, in turn, Jude will be also.”

Dean took a deep breath and nodded, glancing down at Cas's backwards tie hanging in front of him. Shit. He didn't want Clare or Jude to be upset. Especially not this close to their wedding. But how the hell was Dean supposed to fix it? After a second of contemplation, Dean lifted his sight back to his husband's face.

“I guess we should probably go get her,” he begrudgingly suggested.

Cas nodded back, seeming relieved.

“I agree,” he answered, “The two of us can find her quicker if we are together. Perhaps I can fly around and do a sweep of the bunker before we undertake other options.”

“Wait,” Dean said.

The man held onto his angel to stop him from disappearing as he rose to his feet. Now a few inches taller than his husband, Dean looked down into Cas's eyes; searching every last sapphire helix of his beautiful ocean irises. Once he felt fully consumed by Cas's attention, Dean swooped down to capture the angel's mouth with his own. He kissed Cas again, only this time, he put as much heart and soul into it as possible; hugging him so tightly and caressing his whole mouth.

“Elvis was right,” Dean whispered against Cas's lips, “I honestly can't help falling in love with you, Cas.”

Cas seemed momentarily stunned by the kiss, blinking repeatedly up at Dean before he found his voice.

“Y – yes,” the angel stuttered, “I know the feeling well, Dean...”

The two of them smiled at each other again, both holding onto their arms and sharing a moment of private joy and euphoria. Cas eventually cleared his throat and gestured toward the door.

“Shall we?” he offered.

Dean braced himself, knowing that he would have to own up to his terrible actions.

“Ready when you are,” he allowed.

* * *

Meg was no longer anywhere in the bunker. Castiel did a fast but thorough investigation of each and every room, but the demon was nowhere to be found. Upon hearing this information, Dean suggested that they extend their search field to accompany the area outside of the bunker and that of the neighboring town of Lebanon. With his husband's hand in his own, Castiel flew both of them out into the Kansas night air.

Castiel was surprised that Dean was so eager to find Meg. The angel wondered if his earlier words had been powerful enough to change the man's heart so suddenly. How could Dean go from wrathful toward Meg to eager to find her within minutes? Perhaps all Dean needed to regain an open mind was to be reminded of the depth of Castiel's love for him. Or, perhaps, he felt he needed to bring Meg back for Clarence's sake. Either way, Castiel was proud of Dean for choosing to help find her. Dean may have done some foolish things, but he always took responsibility for his actions. That was a mature and wise trait that Castiel adored about him.

With the use of his grace, Castiel was eventually able to sense a demon's aura in the area west of Lebanon. As soon as it crossed his radar, Cas flew toward it; landing on solid ground only a few feet behind with Dean at his side. Meg's slender, feminine silhouette was outlined in the dark by a nearby streetlight. She was high off the ground, her boots balancing on a railing that overlooked a small river some thirty yards down. Castiel momentarily glanced around and realized that the three of them were standing on a bridge – and Meg was on the safety railing, posed as if she was planning to jump.

The last thing Castiel wanted to do was startle her. He knew that surprising her might cause her to lose balance and fall – or worse, jump on purpose. But he also knew that the long drop into the water would not kill her. Her demonic aura would keep her vessel safe. Why she was standing on the railing like that, he wasn't sure. All he knew was that he needed to get her down safely and return her to the bunker before Clarence and Jude found out that she was missing. Castiel began by looking at Dean and carefully letting go of his hand. Thankfully, the man allowed the angel to approach the situation without hesitation. With Dean's blessing, Cas took a silent step forward, watching Meg's wavy hair sway in the night breeze.

“Meg,” the angel began quietly, “What are you doing here?”

Meg did not move an inch. She remained on the railing, facing the river before her. Her hair and clothing continued to dance in the breeze under the streetlight. Though she was motionless, her mouth opened.

“Go home, Castiel,” she replied, voice nearly hoarse, “Go hug your kid. Get in bed with your husband. Pretend I was never there.”

Castiel's heart ached. Why did Meg want him to forget her?

“I cannot do that,” he called back, taking another step closer, “You are the mother of my son's fiance. You are family. And I am here to help you.”

Meg was silent for a few moments. Castiel wished that he could see her face, but the angle in which he looked at her made it impossible. One of her boots slid a few inches closer toward the edge.

“I'm no mother,” she spoke, her voice barely audible, but full of emotion, “That poor kid... He's better off without me. Everyone is.”

“ _No_ ,” Castiel denied, taking two large steps closer to the demon on the railing, “Meg, Clarence loves you. He needs you. You are his primary life giver -”

“I nearly killed him,” Meg interrupted, tone angry, “I threw the poor boy off a bridge... and I deserve the same fate.”

Though she sounded determined, Meg's body language suggested that she was hesitating to follow through. And Castiel was glad. Did Meg honestly think that throwing herself from a bridge would solve anything?

“Meg. That fall will not kill you,” Castiel softly pointed out.

“I know,” Meg said, slowly raising her arm to reveal that she was holding a knife, “but this will.”

It took a moment of studying the blade for Castiel to realize she was right. The weapon in Meg's hand was the knife that the Winchesters had acquired from the demon Ruby many, many years before. It was lethal to demonic auras and would, in fact, fatally harm Meg. Castiel felt his own heart rate drastically pick up speed. No! Meg was actually intending to kill herself!

“Meg, stop.”

It was not Castiel that spoke, but _Dean_. The man's voice came from behind the angel and echoed to the demon. Upon hearing Dean's demanding voice, Meg's head automatically turned back to face the other people on the bridge with her. Wet tear stains were painted down her cheeks and glistened in the streetlight as she stared boldly down at Dean.

“What the hell are you doing here?” she breathed in outrage, “Did you come to push me off? Finish the job yourself?”

“No,” Dean quietly denied, holding both of his hands up in surrender, “I... I came to apologize...”

Meg's watery eyes narrowed in suspicion as she gripped the knife tightly in her hand.

“Bullshit. Winchesters don't apologize for anything,” she accused, glancing between the two men behind her, “Just get the hell out of here and let me die in peace -”

“I'm sorry, okay?” Dean said loudly over top of Meg's panicky voice, “I shouldn't have told you about Clarence. It wasn't my place to talk about it. And I didn't mean to make you upset.”

Castiel looked from his husband back to the demon on the railing, seeing a wave of surprise crest over her expression. She seemed genuinely shocked to hear those words come out of Dean's mouth. Still, she refused to comply with their efforts. She stood her ground, still holding the knife in her tight fingers, as her sight drifted down to Castiel near her.

“... Is it true?” she asked, her dark eyes filling with tears again, “Was my kid homeless? And addicted to drugs? And r – raped?”

“Yes,” Castiel carefully admitted, “But that was many years ago. Clarence has become a fine young man -”

“It was my fault,” Meg cut him off to say, turning back toward the choppy waves of the river below, “Everything... Crowley's right. I don't deserve to live.”

Castiel felt utterly useless. There he was, standing directly behind a woman in so much pain that she was prepared to end her own life, and he couldn't think of a single thing to say that could ease her suffering. But while the angel was lost, the man beside him seemed to know exactly what to do.

“Alright. Stop and think about this for a second,” Dean called up to Meg, nudging forward, “Let's say you did it. You stab yourself and fall off the bridge into the river... Do you know what would happen next?”

Meg did not reply, but she remained still, listening to every word Dean said.

“Cas would jump in after you,” Dean explained, still inching his way closer to the demon, “He wouldn't think about it. He would just do it. Hell, he would even try to heal you with his grace, but it would be too late. He would have to carry your lifeless body out of the river, soaking wet. And I would try my best to console him, but let's face it, the poor guy would be traumatized and heartbroken about your death for the rest of his life.”

Castiel gulped hard as he watched and listened to his husband, feeling tears of his own press at the back of his eyes. Dean was absolutely right...

“Then, we'd have to take your body back to the bunker,” Dean continued, “Because no one would believe that you were dead unless we had proof. Bobby would be upset. Sam and Gabe would be, too. And despite his massively corrosive ego, Crowley wouldn't be happy about it, either. But _Clarence_?” Dean paused to shake his head, “That kid would be absolutely devastated. In fact, he would probably think that one of us killed you. He would point the finger at me or Crowley or Rowena; people who have always looked out for his best interest. He would turn against anyone he suspected might be involved with his mother's death. Because for the first time in his life, he was finally getting to know the woman he always searched for. The woman who gave birth to him, who shares his likes and dislikes, who is proud of his talents and dreams. Your death would bring that kid's whole world crashing down...”

Though Meg remained facing away, Castiel could see fresh, shiny tears slowly sliding down her cheeks.

“Imagine the look on Clare's face at your funeral,” Dean continued with a nod, “Oh yeah, we would have a funeral for you. Most of us would be so full of regret and guilt for what we said to you that a funeral would be the only way we could apologize. Clarence would have to watch your casket close, watch it slide into the ground, watch the dirt pile on top of it. The kid would have to stand there and watch you be buried. But what he _really_ wanted was to watch you smile at his guitar playing,” Dean hummed, “He wanted to watch your reaction to the vows said at his wedding. He wanted to see the joy on your face when you get to hold his first born child. He wanted to plan vacations together, holidays, birthdays, anniversaries, _life_... Clarence wants you in his life.”

Dean was finally close enough to reach out and take hold of the end of the blade in Meg's hand. At the sensation, Meg's head finally turned to look down at Dean where she stood. They were both holding onto the knife, but their expressions were soft.

“So, please, do me a favor,” Dean said, looking fondly up at the demon, “Get down off that rail and come home with us. You can be mad at me all you want, but don't take your life away. Clarence needs it. Hell, we all do.”

Castiel was rendered utterly speechless. The angel only stood there and looked between his husband and the demon on the railing, seeing the unspoken connection that they were sharing in that moment. Dean's words must have finally resonated with Meg, because her hand slowly and gradually slipped off the handle of the knife, leaving it in Dean's grasp. Once he had the weapon, Dean slowly circled it around to offer it to Castiel, who automatically took it into his own possession.

“Thank you,” Dean said, his sight still fixed on Meg as he offered both arms up to her, “Come on. I'll help you down.”

Though she was still crying, Meg allowed Dean to help her off of the railing. She slid down into his grasp long enough for her boots to find solid ground, then backed up to wipe her face. Her dark eyes bashfully flickered between Dean and Castiel as she kept her head down, appearing shameful. To help her feel better, Castiel instantly came forward to wrap an arm around her back and Dean's.

“Shall we return home?” the angel asked.

“Yeah. Let's go,” Dean answered.

Though she did not reply verbally, Castiel could see agreement in Meg's expression. With Meg and his husband both alive and safe in his arms, Castiel flew them back to the bunker. The three of them landed at the end of the hallway that housed the kitchen, still in the huddled formation they had been standing in under the streetlight on the bridge. Meg blinked her wet eyes to adjust to the brighter lighting before finally raising her head up.

“Please don't tell the kid,” she mumbled.

“We won't,” Castiel promised.

As the three of them stood together, the sound of footsteps ahead caught there attention. Castiel, Dean, and Meg all looked up to see Oliver and Jessica in the hallway. The newly weds were wearing pajamas and appeared to be heading toward the kitchen. But they paused upon noticing the small group ahead. Jessica's hands fell to her round stomach – which, Castiel realized, was much larger than when he last saw it – and Oliver's sight lingered on Meg.

“Hey, guys,” Oliver called, “Everything okay?”

Even though they had just experienced a very emotional and dramatic moment together, the three of them all nodded to answer the children. Castiel did not want to share the private encounter on the bridge with anyone else. Though they accepted the reply, Jessica was studious enough to see that Meg was crying. But instead of pointing it out, the blonde angel smiled and nodded toward the kitchen.

“Ollie and I are about to raid the fridge again. Want to join us?” Jessica offered to the demon.

It seemed like Meg didn't realize the question was directed at her until Cas and Dean both looked toward her. Meg blinked several times before gesturing toward her own chest.

“M – me?” she mumbled.

“Yeah,” Jessica nodded, “Getting food is always better in a group.”

“Plus, if you want some cake, now would be the time to eat it,” Oliver suggested, “It's about to be all gone.”

“Come on. I'll let you have first pick of the chips,” Jess encouraged.

Though she seemed confused by the generous offer, Meg slowly took a few steps forward. Castiel watched her go, feeling so proud to see Jessica circle an arm around Meg's back and lead her into the kitchen. Oliver held up his thumb toward Dean and Castiel behind them, as if he was signaling that he and Jessica would help Meg feel better, before following the ladies into the room. Their absence left Dean and Castiel alone in the hallway, and Cas felt the urgent need to speak to his husband.

“That was... amazing, Dean,” Castiel praised, “You saved a woman's life tonight. How – how did you know what to say?”

Dean's green eyes drifted away in thought for a moment before he shrugged and brought them back to Castiel's.

“I know what it's like to lose a mom,” Dean admitted, “and I'm not going to let Clarence lose another one.”

Castiel searched over his soul mate's face, seeing genuine emotion and honesty in his features. Everything Dean said to Meg took on a whole different meaning, now that Castiel was aware of its true origins. Dean was such a strong man; capable of admitting when he was wrong and doing his best to fix his mistakes, all while continuing to manage the long term effects of his own tragic past. Dean Winchester was the strongest man that Castiel had ever had the good fortune of knowing...

“Dean,” Cas hummed, reaching up to circle his arms around Dean's shoulders, “I would very much like to make slow, passionate love to you into the early hours of the morning.”

A smile of excitement – and possibly arousal – flashed on Dean's face. He grinned at the angel for a moment before leaning down to briefly join their mouths together.

“Damn, baby. Count me in,” Dean beamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah. This chapter dealt with a lot of serious topics, but hopefully it's all within the realm of possibility when it comes to Supernatural. I think a lot of us would benefit from behaving as innocently as children who always tell the truth. Sometimes it's better to speak up and say, “Hey, this is how I'm feeling, please help,” rather than bottling it up inside. (That is what I hope happens with Dean on the show before it's too late, to be honest.) And yes, ever since *that* fanfic came out, Elvis Presley's “Can't Help Falling in Love” has been the unofficial Destiel anthem in my heart as well. (You guys know exactly what I'm talking about. Lol) ;D Whether you are happy or not about Meg's return into this story, I think we can all agree that no one should ever question their existence on this Earth – And if _you_ are somehow feeling the same way Meg was in this chapter, allow me to first say, thank you for being here. You have already impacted the world (and _my_ life) in ways you aren't even aware of. Despite what the 'John Winchester' in your head says, you _do_ matter. You have value. You have purpose. And you are loved _so much_ by so many. And frankly, the world would not be the same without you. Thank you for staying strong and being in my life! Always keep Fighting! :D (And I'm here if you need to talk!) ;) Thank you guys so so so much for reading and commenting! This chapter was very, very personal for me, and I hope you were able to find the same meaning in it as I did. :) More Judence fluff is on the way! :D The next chapter will be out soon! :)


	10. Chapter 10

Being married to the trickster came with a strange set of perks. Some of them, like the instant healing and flying, were pretty useful. Others, not so much. Like waking up in a bed full of crumbs and candy wrappers, or being subjected to hours of show tunes. Though, over the years, Sam had grown accustomed to Gabriel's weird behavior. By this point in their long-haul marriage, Sam knew almost everything there was to know about Gabe. Including where his hidden stash of candy was – which happened to be the worst hiding place ever: Their shared sock drawer. Gabriel was a lot of things, but subtle was not one of them. And lucky for their daughter Jessica, Sam didn't mind stealing candy from his giant man-baby.

When he heard that Jess was craving sweets, Sam 'appropriated' some of his husband's sugary goods. She rarely ever ate candy, so he wasn't sure which she would like best. So Sam just grabbed a couple of handfuls from the sock drawer and made his way down the bunker toward his daughter's room. It was pretty late at night, getting close to twelve-thirty in the morning, but he figured that Gabe and Jane were probably keeping the kids awake. The closer he got to the door, the more Sam could hear Jess and Oliver's voices.

“ - with pink flowers and a pink stuffed unicorn,” Oliver explained, sounding enthusiastic, “And we could paint the walls pink, too.”

“Huh-uh. Not a chance,” Jess instantly disagreed, “Just because she's a girl doesn't mean everything has to be pink.”

Sam smiled to himself as he paused in the hallway. He remembered Gabriel saying that exact same thing when he was pregnant with Jessica... After clearing his throat, Sam closed the distance to the open bedroom door. He quickly glanced inside, noticing that Jess and Oliver were the only two people there, before softly knocking on the door frame. Both kids were laying on the bed next to each other – with Jess's round, shiny stomach between them – and looked up at the sound of the knock. Their less-than-eager expressions made it seem like they were getting tired of people interrupting them. Upon looking at Sam, though, Jess smiled.

“Hey, Dad,” she called, sounding tired, “What's up?”

“Nothing much. I just thought I would bring you some candy,” Sam explained, holding up the handfuls.

A small gasp came from the bed and Jess immediately rolled over to sit up. She looked just as excited as Gabriel did whenever he spotted the candy aisle at the store.

“No way!” she grinned, holding both hands out, “You read my mind! I was just thinking about a Butterfinger!”

“Well, there are two in here,” Sam smiled back.

He strode over to relinquish the candy to his daughter's reaching hands. Oliver, wearing a set of blue unicorn and rainbow Pjs, sat up next to Jess to look over the sweets. But he didn't reach for any of it. Maybe he, like Sam, knew better than to get between his pregnant spouse and food.

While Jess unwrapped the candy and chowed down, Sam stole a glance at her stomach. It was pretty round by now, still housing that familiar golden glow even under the fabric of her clothing. The sight brought back memories of Gabriel's pregnancy so many years before. Gabe had been so short and round and yellow; like a golden egg. Jessica seemed to carry the pregnancy look a little differently, probably because of the height she got from Sam. Still, it was strange to think that his little girl was carrying _another_ little girl... Sam's granddaughter... The thought made him wonder how much the baby had grown already.

“Jess,” Sam said, taking a step closer, “Would it be alright if I felt your stomach?”

With a mouth full of Skittles, Jess stifled a giggle. After chewing for a second, she shook her head in wonder.

“You're the first person who's actually asked,” Jess mumbled around her food as she leaned back, “Sure. Go ahead.”

With his daughter's permission, Sam smiled and leaned down to gently place his hand against the front of her rounded belly. The warmth from the golden grace was there, just like he remembered from Gabe's pregnancy. And while he could feel the tightness, Sam couldn't really feel the baby's outline. Oliver must have seen the struggle on Sam's face, because the kid reached out to move Sam's hand.

“Try over here,” he said, sliding Sam's fingers to the left side, “Charlie likes to hang out under Jess's ribs for some reason.”

“Charlie?” Sam repeated.

“That's her name. Charlie Jane,” Jess smiled.

A wave of warmth crested over Sam's chest as he looked between the kids. Wow. His granddaughter already had a name. And it was so beautiful. Charlie Jane had an army of people who loved her and would do anything to protect her, and she didn't even know it yet...

“Hi, Charlie,” Sam hummed, looking down at the spot under his hand, “I'm your grandpa Sam.”

A tiny bit of movement came from under Jess's tight skin, making Sam gasp and flinch his hand back. Holy shit! The baby heard him! She was already aware of the people outside the womb. Sam looked up to Jess to see if she felt it too, and she was already smiling at him.

“Neat, huh?” Jess beamed, still chewing on some candy.

“Yeah,” Sam nodded, “I – I can actually remember _you_ doing that in your Papa's belly. You liked it when I read to you.”

Jess's smile turned soft and her free hand came up to rest next to Sam's on her stomach. While the two of them shared a sentimental moment, Oliver reached over to get his cell phone off the bed.

“If you think that's cool, watch this,” he smiled.

After Oliver swiped the screen on his phone a few times, a song began to play from the speaker. Sam recognized the tune. It was “Do You Love Me” by the Contours, an old hit from way back in the day. And almost as soon as it started playing, Sam could feel the baby wiggling fanatically under his hand. It was almost like Charlie was dancing or reaching out for the music. And the sensation left Sam in absolute _awe_. His jaw was nearly on the floor.

“The kid loves Motown,” Oliver said over the music.

“Stevie Wonder and The Jackson Five are her favorites,” Jess added with a shrug, “We've been playing music for her for hours. It's the only thing that keeps her happy. Music and candy.”

Sam chuckled, unable to hold his own giddiness inside. It was mind boggling to think that his unborn granddaughter already had a personality; a full set of likes and dislikes, before she had ever taken her first breath. But, then again, Jessica had been the same way... Sam noticed Jessica give a large yawn above him and he carefully removed his hand from her stomach. Jess was clearly tired and he didn't want to keep her from sleep. Especially now that she needed more rest than ever.

“I should let you guys get some sleep,” Sam said over the music, “I just wanted to check on you.”

Oliver stopped the song and pecked a kiss to Jess's stomach before putting his phone away again. In the meantime, Jess nodded and placed the rest of her candy on her bedside table.

“Okay,” she allowed, heaving another long yawn, “Thanks for the candy and stuff, dad.”

“Anytime,” Sam hummed, leaning down to kiss the side of his daughter's head of blonde hair, “Goodnight, baby girl.”

“Night, Dad. Love you,” she hummed.

“Yeah. Love you, Dad,” Oliver grinned.

Sam smirked and shook his head at the ginger on the bed next to his daughter.

“I love all three of you,” he replied.

Just before Sam turned to walk away, he remembered something very important...

“Hey, have you guys seen Gabe?” he asked.

“He and mom went to get Jess a new dress for Jude's wedding. She can't fit into the other one because, you know, the baby bump and all,” Oliver admitted.

“They left a few hours ago. I don't know what's taking them so long,” Jess mumbled.

Sam nodded but glanced to the floor. The night before, he had slept by himself. Sam went to bed and woke up without Gabriel next to him, and it looked like it was going to be the same way tonight. Of course, he understood that Gabriel was excited for the baby and wanted to make sure everything was ready for when she came. But as selfish and petty as it sounded, deep down, Sam was starting to feel left out. For once, he actually missed having Gabriel's attention... Despite his emotions, Sam forced another smile.

“See you guys in the morning,” he hummed.

Jessica and Oliver both mumbled goodbyes as Sam made his way back out of the room. He pulled the door behind him, leaving a small gap open. It mirrored Jude's side of the hall, where his Batman nightlight was peeking out from the gap. With the kids all comfortable for the night, Sam headed back toward his and Gabe's bedroom.

The room was just the way he left it. Red plaid sheets filled with a few stray candy wrappers, stacks of open books on the desk near the door, lamp lit on Sam's side of the bed, and Dickie curled up with his stuffed moose on the floor. When Sam came in, the dog raised his head but stayed still. The atmosphere was calm and quiet – and Sam was surprised to find that he actually _hated_ it. This bedroom was hardly ever silent. Gabriel's rambling voice was always there to keep him company, and Sam was able to feel its absence from every cold corner of the room. Geez, Gabe really was the sun of Sam's life...

After stripping down to his moose-print boxers, Sam crawled onto his side of the bed, flicked some wrappers out of the way, and laid down. He figured that the stillness would make it easy for him to fall asleep, but it didn't. He only laid there and blinked toward Gabe's vacant side of the bed, thinking back to the days when _Gabe_ was pregnant. He was so needy and whiny, even more than usual. And he ate nearly all of Bobby's fresh foods. Watching the golden archangel sleep was one of the best things that ever happened to Sam. Gabe looked so harmless when he slept; so peaceful and innocent...

A gust of wind swept through the room and ruffled some of Sam's hair.

The man lifted his head from the bed to see the very archangel he was thinking of standing in the room with him. Gabe had popped in and was quickly rummaging through the items on the desk, looking for something. He only spared a quick glance toward Sam.

“Hey, moose-cakes, have you seen that neck tie I picked out for Jude and Clare's wedding?” Gabe asked.

Sam's eyebrows scrunched. Why did Gabe need a neck tie so late at night?

“Why?” Sam blurted.

“Jane said she found a different one that would look better, but I'm gonna show her the one I have to prove her wrong,” Gabe explained, still moving things around, “By the way, I bought a highchair. And a car seat. And a stroller. And a play pin. And about fifty baby bottles -”

“What?” Sam gasped, sitting up on the bed, “ _How?_ ”

“Well, I sorta, kinda, maybe punched an ATM machine. But in my defense, the machine started it, okay? Wasn't my fault it started spitting money at me,” Gabe grumbled.

Instead of arguing the morality of taking money or the stupidity of fighting with a machine, Sam simply closed his mouth and shook his head. There was no point in wasting breath when it came to Gabriel. The archangel eventually huffed a breath and paused his search to turn around and look at Sam. His golden eyes bounced around for a moment before he tilted his head in confusion.

“Not that I'm complaining, but why are you in your underwear, kid?” Gabe asked.

“Uh... Because that's how I sleep?” Sam answered.

“Sleep?” Gabe repeated, looking around, “What time is it?”

“It's almost one in the morning,” Sam informed.

The mention of the late hour must have been a genuine shock to Gabe, because he gasped out loud and smacked his own forehead.

“What? Already?!” he breathed.

“Yeah,” Sam answered, lowering his head a little, “Are you, uh... gonna come to bed tonight?”

Sam didn't want to sound too needy. He just wanted to be able to lay next to his husband as he usually did. When Gabe heard Sam's question, the shock fled his face and was replaced with confusion – and then apology.

“Oh shit,” Gabe hissed in disappointment, “I didn't come to bed last night, did I?”

Sam pursed his lips and shook his head. Nope. He sure didn't... Gabe briefly scrunched his eyes shut and shook his head.

“Dammit. How shitty of me. What kind of wife am I?” the archangel huffed, pausing to undo his own pants, “Scooch over, moose. I'm comin' in.”

Sam smiled and inched over in the bed, watching Gabe strip down to his own underwear before literally hopping into bed. Sam's eyes instantly drank in the sight of Gabe's body; his bare pink nipples, broad chest, and the tiny trail of blonde hair on his stomach. As soon as the archangel laid next to him, Sam reached out to run his large hand up Gabe's tummy, rubbing his fingers along the warm flat surface of Gabe's skin. It was hard to believe that Gabe's pregnancy was so long ago, because it was so vivid and fresh in Sam's memory...

“You were the cutest pregnant man ever, Gabe,” Sam mumbled fondly against his pillow.

“Damn right I was,” Gabe agreed, wearing his signature trickster smirk, “Thanks to you and that brilliant brain of yours.”

“Me?” Sam breathed.

“Yeah. You're the one who figured out how to make the baby, remember?” Gabe pointed out, “All I did was nearly burn your poor dick off.”

Sam chuckled on the bed, remembering the look of horror that flashed on Gabe's face every time he thought he hurt Sam. At the time, the pain was awful. But looking back, the whole scenario was hilarious.

“I ran around a corn field buck-ass-naked with Dickie in my arms,” Sam recalled out loud.

Gabriel's hardy laugh shook the bed. And soon, Sam joined in. The two of them laid together and chuckled at the memory, filling their bedroom with the joyous sound.

There had been a time, long before he ever met Gabriel, that Sam thought he would never have nights like this. He never thought he would live long enough, or richly enough, to be able to recall pleasant memories with someone who loved him. Yet, there he was, laying next to Gabriel, laughing about the night they conceived their daughter... Sam allowed his own laughter to fade out before leaning over to capture Gabe's mouth with his own. The taste was as sweet as cotton candy, just like always. And the way Gabe's tongue attacked his own was surprisingly comforting.

“Mmm,” Gabe hummed inside the kiss, “Are you wanting to make another baby, or...?”

“N – no,” Sam laughed, “No, I... I just love you. A lot.”

Gabe smirked at Sam, reaching up to run his short fingers through Sam's lengthy hair.

“Aww. I love you a lot too, baby moose,” the archangel hummed, “And there's nothing that says we can't _practice_ the baby making.”

Sam chuckled again and shook his head. Of course Gabriel would say something like that...

“That's true,” the man admitted, “Should I get the lube?”

Gabe raised his hand, revealing the half-used tube in his grasp.

“Always one step ahead of you, Samsquatch,” the archangel purred with a wink.

* * *

When Jude woke up on Tuesday and rolled over with a stretch on his bed, he was greeted with the view of his white wedding suit hanging on the back of his closet door. For a little while, he just laid there, staring at the egg-shell fabric and Superman cufflinks on the sleeves. His mind bounced from thought to thought – lingering mostly on Clarence, Meg, his own parents, and Jess and Ollie's baby – but the wedding was what drove him to get out of bed and change his clothes. Jude was going to marry Clarence in a matter of hours and there was still so much to do. He couldn't just lay around doing nothing.

He assumed that the kitchen would be full of people, as it had been for the past few days. The bunker was filled to the brim with people, so it made sense that everyone would meet in there for mealtimes. But Jude was surprised to see that the kitchen was empty. The light was off, the smell of coffee and food was faint, and the warmth had faded. It looked like Jude had just missed breakfast. There was a covered plate on the metal island which was probably for him, but instead of sitting to eat, Jude took off in search of the rest of his family. The distant sound of chatter drew his attention down the hall toward the control room, and further into the study – where he was greeted with a beautiful sight.

Jude's parents, all his uncles, and even Ollie, Jane, and Meg were all working together to rearrange the bunker library. The bookshelves, tables, and artifacts were all gone, and slowly being replaced by decorations. Black and white sheets lined the brick walls, making it look like a different place altogether. Two rows of fancy chairs lined a white runner that stretched from the study steps all the way to a rustic metal archway at the end of the room. Jane and Meg were placing some white roses around the sheets, Adam and Michael were helping Sam and Gabe hang some fancy chandeliers from the ceiling, Dad and Pop were talking to each other near the arch, and Jessie was sitting close to the study entrance with her feet propped up and a bag of cookies in her arms.

Jess was the first one to notice Jude when he walked in. The pregnant angel gulped down her mouthful of cookies and waved him over to her. Though he was still in awe of the beautiful organization that was happening around him, Jude stumbled over to greet his cousin.

“Well, it's about time you rolled out of bed,” Jess commented with a wink before gesturing to the room, “What do you think?”

Jude took the time to look around again, still amazed by the collaborative effort of his family.

“It's already beautiful,” he murmured with a half grin.

“Yeah it is,” Jess agreed as she munched on another cookie, “Wait 'til you see what they did in the garage.”

“The garage?” Jude repeated, “Why? What did they do there?”

Jessie started talking, but Jude didn't hear a word she said. His cousin's voice was drowned out by another voice in his head. It was deep and quiet, but had an undertone of urgency.

“ _Jude Winchester. You should probably get over here. Fast._ ”

Jude knew the accent. It was uncle Crowley's voice. The king of hell had just prayed to Jude. Only, it didn't sound like it was coming from the area that Bobby lived in. It felt like Crowley's voice was traveling from farther away, from somewhere north east of the bunker. Jude blinked down at Jessie as he tried to figure out where it was coming from. Why would Crowley pray to _Jude_ , and not to Papa or Gabe? The answer seemed obvious. Maybe something was wrong with Clare...

“Crowley just prayed to me. I have to go,” Jude blurted to his cousin.

The fear that his fiance might be in danger was able to help Jude get his grace in gear. The angel closed his eyes, pictured Crowley and Clarence in his mind, and let his high powered grace take over. In a matter of seconds, Jude felt cold water peppering his head and arms.

When he opened his eyes, Jude was no longer in the bunker with Jess. He was standing outside in the rain. Dark, gloomy gray clouds were overhead, a flowing river was nearby, a city skyline was in the distance, and Bobby and Crowley were standing right in front of him. The king of hell and the elder hunter were huddled under the same black umbrella with forlorn looks on their faces. Upon seeing his uncles, Jude instantly searched the area for blonde hair and emerald-chestnut eyes.

“What happened? Where's Clare?” Jude spouted, ready to fight someone if he needed to.

Bobby simply raised his hand to point toward the right. Jude followed the gesture to find Clare standing a few yards away. The blonde demon didn't have an umbrella. He was just standing near a patch of soil, staring at the ground while the rain drenched him. Though he couldn't see Clare's facial expressions, Jude could almost feel pain and heartache pulsing from his fiance's direction.

“He asked us to bring him here,” Crowley quietly mentioned.

“This is where is old house used to be. The one that burned down near the river,” Bobby added, gesturing to the rushing water behind him, “We don't know why he wanted to come. He won't talk to us.”

“We figured if anyone could get him to speak, it's you, boy,” Crowley finished.

Jude gave a single solemn nod as he stared toward Clare in the distance. No wonder the guy felt so horrible. He was standing near the place were the most tragic event of his life happened. Hoping to provide Clare with some kind of relief, Jude quickly and carefully made his way closer to the demon. By now, the moderate rain fall had begun to soak into his clothes and make him feel heavier. Clare was already drenched, but he didn't seem to care. His eyes were positioned ahead of him; gazing blankly toward the huge, blackened square patch of dirt on the ground. Jude paused next to Clare to join him in looking at the area. At first, Jude wasn't sure if Clare was even aware of his presence. He didn't want to startle Clare by touching him or speaking too loudly. So to make himself known, Jude decided to whisper.

“What are you doing here, Clare?” Jude asked just over the sound of rain.

Clare blinked once, tilting his head slightly to see Jude standing there. A touch of relief leaked into his blank expression, but his eyes looked watery. Clare used his shoulder to rub some of the wetness from his face before he answered.

“I... I thought I would be able to find something,” Clare confessed, his voice low and full of sorrow, “A picture... A toy... A knickknack... Even a piece of furniture, I don't know. Just something I could show you and Mom to let you know I had a pretty good childhood...”

Clare audibly sniffled, scrunching his face in the rain as if he was trying to hold in tears.

“But it's all gone,” he admitted, his voice so shaky that it made Jude's heartache, “The house. The girls. My childhood... It all burned up. It's like I was never here at all.”

“But you _were_ here,” Jude defended, leaning over to hook his arm around Clare's, “Clare, you don't have to prove anything to me. I believe every word you've ever told me.”

“I know,” Clare replied, sniffling again as he leaned against Jude, “I guess I just wanted to prove it to myself. Up until I was eight years old, I was fine. I learned how to read and write, and I laughed all the time. It was the part that came after that really messed me up...”

Clare turned his head to face Jude completely. His blonde hair was wet and stuck to his forehead, where streaks of water streamed down his face. His large eyes probed Jude's, searching them with meaning.

“Jay, you make me feel like I did back then,” the demon expressed, “When I'm with you, I'm a little kid again. You make me feel so loved, and relaxed, and excited about the future... I just wish I could show you where it all started.”

Jude smiled up at his fiance in the rain, feeling all sorts of emotions flood his system. Clarence was such a kind and thoughtful person; so aware of himself and where he came from. He didn't need to provide physical proof of his upbringing, because it was already present in the man he was in that moment. But before Jude could say any of that out loud, another voice came from nearby.

“That's a great idea.”

Jude and Clare both spun ahead to look toward the dark patch of Earth. Jude instantly recognized the man with the scruffy beard and sky-blue eyes. It was his Grandpa Chuck. He was standing outside in the middle of the charred ground, but his clothes were perfectly dry. It was like there was an invisible barrier around him, keeping him protected from the rain. His ice blue eyes focused on Clarence as he stood with his hands in his jean pockets.

“Remembering your past is important,” Grandpa Chuck said with a nod, “It helps you stop making the same mistakes, and reminds you of how far you've come... But the past is not as important as the future.”

Though he seemed surprised to see Grandpa Chuck standing right in front of him, Clarence didn't move a muscle. He only blinked toward Jude's grandpa in wonder.

“You didn't come here for a lecture. I know,” Grandpa said, “You came here to find a memento. Well, you're in luck, Clarence. Because I'm giving you a wedding gift early.”

Before Clare or Jude could ask what that meant, Grandpa Chuck took his hand from his pocket and held it over the space next to him. Dirt and dust from the blackened ground began to swirl together; shifting, building, and blending to quickly form a squared shape. Within seconds, Grandpa Chuck had created an old wooden end table.

“Hey,” Clare gasped, his mouth open as he pointed toward the furniture, “I remember that table! It was in the living room!”

While Clare excitedly freaked out over the familiar wooden stand, Grandpa pulled out the drawer and reached inside. He withdrew a small black book from the table, and when he shut the drawer back, the whole table disappeared; fading back into the moist dirt from which it came. But the book remained in Grandpa's hand. Still nice and dry from the rain, Grandpa walked over to hold out the book to Clare with a vibrant smile.

“Keep looking toward the future, okay?” Grandpa said, his eyes drifting to Jude, “Both of you.”

Jude gulped under the intensity of his Grandpa's stare. There must have been a more cryptic message underlying his words but, for the life of him, Jude didn't know what it was.

“I'll see you tomorrow,” Grandpa Chuck said with a wink.

And just like that, he was gone again. Jude and Clare were left standing in the rain together again, with Clare still holding the black book in his hands. The two of them looked at each other before eying the book together. Clare wasted no time spinning it around and flipping the front cover open. The first page made Jude realize that it wasn't a book. It was a photo album. An old picture of a tiny blonde toddler was displayed behind a shiny protective sheet before them.

“Th – that's _me_ ,” Clare gasped, pointing to the tiny baby in the photo, “Look, Jay, it's me!”

Clare quickly flipped to the next page, which held a picture of a few women on one side, and the same toddler in someone's lap in another. Before Jude could properly see either of them, Clare flipped the page again. And again. He was soaking it all up in a blur of excitement, chuckling to himself as tears finally broke free and rolled down to meet the streams of rain on his smiling face.

“Holy shit, that's really them,” Clare exclaimed, giggling and crying at the same time, “I – I never thought I would see their faces again... Look, Jay, that's Jeanette. And that's Sarah, over here. She was making jam, I think. And, oh my God, that's the garden we had! And that's the farmers market we used to go to every Saturday...”

Clarence went on and on, pointing to pictures of various people and places while he smiled and cried. And the sound of raw, powerful emotion in the demon's voice made Jude tear up, too. Clearly, Grandpa Chuck had given Clare exactly what he came here looking for; a piece of his past that not only proved that his childhood and first family were real, but also gave him the closure he needed to move on. Meg might have come back into his life, but she could never change what his first family meant to him.

The last picture in the album was one of two or three year old Clarence sleeping in a wicker basket. He was just small enough to fit inside the tiny space, and was covered up with Meg's purple leather jacket. He looked so precious; pale blonde hair tossed in all directions and little hands balled up under his chubby cheek. Looking at the toddler in the picture made Jude wonder if their children would look just as cute.

“And that's me with Mom's jacket,” Clare mumbled, still holding onto a soft smile, “I carried that thing around everywhere... God, look at that bowl cut. I looked just like Dennis the Menace.”

“Clare, you were nothing but adorable,” Jude praised, hugging his arm tighter around Clare's, “In fact, you still are.”

“Oh stop it, Jaybird,” Clare smirked with a tiny blush.

“What's going on?”

Clare and Jude paused their exploration of the photo album to turn and face Crowley and Bobby. They were both still sharing the black umbrella, staring at Clare with concern.

“What was the big man doin' here?” Bobby asked, sounding genuinely curious.

“Was he filling your head with nonsense, boy?” Crowley asked, “If he's planning to ban you from Hell, I won't allow it.”

“No,” Clare instantly denied, shaking some of the water out of his hair as he held up the album, “He gave me a wedding gift, that's all. I really want to show it to you guys, but I think we'd better get out of this rain, first.”

“Good call,” Bobby agreed, “Let's get back to my place.”

“Okay. We'll meet you guys there in a second,” Clare replied, pulling Jude closer.

Jude looked to his fiance, wondering why he wanted to linger back. Maybe he wanted to talk to Jude in private about something. Though they were curious, Bobby and Crowley nodded before disappearing in a cloud of black smoke. By the time they vanished, Jude realized that the rain was letting up. A touch of sunshine was trying to peek out from behind the gray clouds, illuminating the space Clare and Jude were standing in.

“Jude,” Clare said softly, turning to face him, “I want to do something. It'll probably seem weird, but would you humor me for a second?”

“Of course,” Jude instantly agreed.

After clearing his throat and tossing some of his wet hair back, Clare wrapped his whole arm around Jude and spun him back toward the blackened ground. The two of them were facing the empty space again, eying the area where Clare's childhood home used to be. With the photo album in his hand, Clare began to speak.

“Julie. Sarah. Helen. Marie. Casey. Emma. Jeanette,” he called out fondly, his arm tightening around Jude, “This is Jude.”

Jude gulped, feeling tears press at the back of his eyes. Though there wasn't anyone else physically in the area, Jude felt like there were several people staring right at him. But he didn't mind. Clare was introducing Jude to his past family, and the angel wanted to be respectful.

“Hello,” Jude called out.

No one answered, of course. But a few more rays of sunshine burst through the clouds to light up the darkened ground.

“I just wanted you to know that this man saved my life,” Clare went on, “I'm marrying him tomorrow. And I'm fine, now... Thank you so much for taking care of me. Especially when no one else would. I love all of you. And I know I'll see you again some day.”

Jude wasn't aware that tears were streaming down his own face until he had the urge to sniffle. Clare's bittersweet speech left his whole heart aching with a bizarre mixture of pain _and_ joy. He hoped, with all his might, that those seven women could somehow hear everything that Clare said... With his final goodbyes said, Clare turned back to look at Jude with a giddy smile.

“Well, looks like I'm all yours now, Jay. All we have to do is make it official,” the demon hummed, resting his forehead against Jude's, “Take me home, Superman.”

After stopping his own flow of tears and wrapping Clare into a tight hug, Jude took one more glance at the empty space next to them. He had just enough time to notice that a bright rainbow had formed in the clouds above the scene before he closed his eyes and whisked his fiance away in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has taken me a few long years to understand the phrase Chuck said in this chapter. It's important to remember and cherish your past, but it's also important to keep moving forward. And I hope that if you find yourself struggling with something that happened in the past, you'll be able to remember Clarence and take that step toward your future. ;) And yes. I cried _a lot_ while writing the end of this chapter. (Why do I do this to myself?! Lol) XD I hope that you enjoyed the humorous beginning as well as the bittersweet end. And I hope you all are ready for a wedding, because the happy nuptial day will start in the next chapter! :D Thank you guys so much for reading and commenting! I truly hope that this emotional story helps some of you as much as it helps me. You are all blessings in my life! :) The next chapter will be out soon! :)


	11. Chapter 11

Clarence didn't get very much sleep the night before his wedding. Because, frankly, he was too excited to get any sleep. He had waited for this day for _years_. Ever since he first tasted Jude's mouth with a kiss, Clarence knew he was going to marry him. And now that the day had finally arrived, he could barely contain himself. After only a couple of hours of sleep, Clare was up; standing in front of his dresser mirror, practicing his vows. He had to get the words just right because their love deserved nothing short of perfection. And Jude was well worth the practice.

It wasn't long before Rowena came knocking on the door. Six AM, bright and early, she danced inside Clare's bedroom wearing a bubbly smile. Clare's wedding suit was draped over her dainty arms, freshly cleaned and perfectly hemmed. The tiny Scottish witch took the liberty of dressing him – literally yanking off his pajamas and stuffing him into the dress clothes – without so much as a warning. Clare assumed it was how all moms and grandmas treated their kids, so he didn't complain too much. Hell, it was his wedding day. There was no reason for him to complain.

“Ah, my sweet lamb,” Rowena cooed, taking a step back to stare at Clare once he was completely dressed, “Yer so very handsome... I could easily mistake ya for James Dean.”

Clare bit down a smile and shook his head at his own reflection in the mirror. What was with Rowena and that James Dean guy? He must have been someone she dated or something. But Clare couldn't help but agree with her. Rowena was right. Clare did look pretty suave. At least well enough to give Jude the butterflies. He hoped...

“As long as Jay likes it, we're good,” Clare shrugged, lifting up his own collar to hang the white tie around his neck, “Ro, can you help me with this? I've never been any good with ties.”

“Of course, laddie! C'mere and sit down,” the witch hummed.

Clare took a seat in his desk chair and swiveled to face the mirror again. It was somewhere low enough to the floor that Rowena's short arms could reach without straining. Clare watched her pale hands and black-painted fingernails work around his shoulders; pulling the tie to an even length and starting the looping actions. But his eyes diverted from the work back up to the witch's pretty face. And then he started thinking about all the times Rowena had done things like this in the past. She was always there to help Clare; teaching him how to brew potions, taking him shopping, sharing her centuries of wisdom, telling old stories about Crowley and the Winchesters. Rowena was basically another mother to Clarence. A thoughtful, caring witch, just like the moms he lost...

“There,” Rowena hummed, patting out his collar as she straightened the newly formed tie around his neck, “Now you could put Don Juan to shame.”

Clare shared a smile with her in the mirror before reaching up to take her hand. He gently tugged it forward, guiding her around to stand in front of the chair.

“Hey, Rowena,” Clare started, wishing he could put his feelings into words, “Thank you. For always being there for me. It – it means a lot, you know?”

“Aww, Clarey, don't you go doin' that to me. I can't get all weepy yet. The cocks haven't even crowed,” Rowena grumbled, though she was already blubbering up.

“I'm serious. Thank you,” Clare repeated, still holding her tiny hand, “I owe you a lot.”

Rowena smiled and batted her eyelashes before reaching out to wrap both arms around the demon in the chair. Clare closed his eyes and hugged her back, holding her tiny frame close. It was nice to have a motherly hug so early in the morning.

“Clarence, me boy... Ya don't owe me a thing,” the witch hummed, raising her head to smile down at him with watery eyes, “I'm just happy to be part of yer life.”

The two of them were quiet for a second, sharing a meaningful and joyous moment – until they were interrupted by the sound of Bobby and Crowley bickering out in the hall. It sounded like the two guys were walking closer, arguing loudly about seating arrangements at the wedding. The warm smiles on Clare and Rowena's faces shifted to smiles of humor. Not a day went by in the Singer household without Bobby and Crowley arguing about something...

“ _I won't do it, Robert! I simply cannot sit there!_ ” Crowley snapped.

“ _Fine! You can go sit outside with the rest of the dogs then, ya mouthy idgit_ ,” Bobby snapped back.

“ _Oh, that's perfect. Just throw your poor husband to the wolves. I should have expected no less from the likes of a callous old hunter!_ ”

Clare's bedroom door swung open, bringing the muffled conversation to a louder volume.

“Ya know what? Bite me,” Bobby grumbled toward the king of hell.

“Don't tempt me, Darling. Because I _will_ ,” Crowley hissed in return.

Clare and Rowena turned to look at Bobby and Crowley as they entered the room. They both looked amazing, dressed in their 'Sunday best'. Crowley was wearing his usual flat black suit while Bobby's was closer to Navy blue. Bobby's hat was gone too; his thinning hair neatly combed to one side. Their argument stopped abruptly when they looked forward to see Clarence. The younger demon's appearance must have been just as startling to them as theirs was to him, because all three of them just stared at each other in awe for a second. Bobby was the first to smile.

“You look great, kid,” the old hunter complimented warmly.

“Absolutely dashing,” Crowley added, tone much nicer than before.

“Thanks, guys,” Clare replied, “You look great, too.”

A moment of silence ticked by, in which everyone just quietly took in the sight of each other and comprehended the weight and meaning of the day. Bobby eventually cleared his throat and shifted his sight to the witch next to Clare.

“Rowena, you wanna help me gather up all this food in the kitchen? Fergus is actin' like a princess this mornin',” Bobby mentioned snidely.

Clare bit down on his lip to stop himself from smiling. He didn't want to get in the middle of their argument, but thinking about Crowley in a tiara was hilarious. Crowley only rolled his eyes at Bobby's words while Rowena patted Clare's shoulder and walked around the chair.

“Sure, love. Fergus, get yer act together,” she hummed, pausing to 'boop' Crowley on the nose with her tiny finger, “I won't let ya go spoilin' our wee lamb's big day.”

Crowley, as usual, glared after his mother as she and Bobby headed out the door. Their absence left a sizable, heavy silence in Clare's bedroom between him and Crowley. Clare knew where the discomfort was coming from. Though he had never said it to Clare's face, it was obvious that Crowley did not like Meg. If Clare had to take a guess, he would say that Crowley and Bobby's morning argument was probably about Meg, too. Honestly, Clare thought that Crowley was acting a little childish about the whole thing, but he didn't want to bring any of that up. Not on what was going to be the happiest day of his life.

The awkward silence persisted for some time before Crowley eased over to sit on the end of Clare's bed. He stole a few glances at Clare before looking to the floor.

“Clarence,” he finally spoke, voice low and serious, “Have I ever told you about Robert's soul?”

Clare swiveled around in his desk chair to face Crowley completely. Bobby's soul? What about Bobby's soul? With his eyebrows scrunched, Clare shook his head. Crowley took a deep breath afterward.

“Over the past two decades, I have tried countless times to get Robert to sell his soul to me,” Crowley explained, his dark eyes on the floor, “I've offered him money. Time. Knowledge. Mansions. Fancy cars. The deaths of his enemies... But every time, he refuses. He thinks it is nefarious to sell ones soul to a demon. He tells me his soul belongs to him and no one else. Not even me... But do you know why I try so hard to change his mind?”

Crowley finally looked up to meet Clare's eyes, and Clare only gulped and shook his own head.

“Because, when Robert dies, his soul will undoubtedly go to heaven,” the demon king answered, tone full of regret, “After all, it's only fair. That man has earned his right to a peaceful eternity... But I can never enter the gates of Heaven. I may be able to sneak my way in to pay him a visit somehow, but Heaven is the one plane of existence that I could never fully _live_ in. Robert will be lost to me forever. So, with a heavy heart, I dread the day he will leave this world...”

Clarence didn't know what to say. He only sat there in his chair and stared at his adoptive father with a sense of overwhelming sadness. Damn. He didn't even want to _think_ about Bobby and Crowley not being together. Why would Crowley tell him all of this? The king of Hell swallowed once as his dark eyes circled Clare's face.

“I have no say over Robert's soul. Just as I have no say over yours,” Crowley said, “You see Meg differently than I do. I know things about her that you don't, and you know things about her that I don't. You are your own man, I'm aware of that... But I have come to think of you as my child. We hardly share a biological relation past being demons, yet you are my son. I care for you. I only want the best for you. And above all else, I do not wish to lose you... So, forgive me, Clarence. I still don't agree with Meg being in your life. But if it means that much to you, I will attempt to tolerate her for your sake. I already fear for the loss of my husband in the afterlife. I would rather not worry about the loss of my son in _this_ life...”

It felt like there was something stuck in Clare's throat, burning his esophagus and bringing tears to his eyes. Hearing Crowley say all of that made him feel relieved and sad at the same time. He had no idea Crowley thought so highly of him; highly enough to worry about losing him. To keep himself from breaking down, Clare got up from the chair and walked over to sit next to the demon king on the bed. Clare knew Crowley wasn't a 'hugger,' but he couldn't help but wrap both arms around the guy.

“You don't have to worry about me, Crowley. I'm not going anywhere,” Clare swore with a nod, “I get that you don't like her, and I appreciate you being honest. If you don't want to be around her, that's fine. But I promise she's not gonna change anything between you, me, and Bobby. You guys are the only dads I've ever had. I'm still your kid, Meg or no Meg.”

Clare's words seemed to lighten Crowley's miserable mood a little bit. The demon king nodded once, regaining his 'royal' composure to look ahead.

“Good,” he replied, “Thank you... You realize this means I won't be sitting near her at the wedding, correct?”

Clare chuckled a little. Yep. Bobby was right. Crowley was totally acting like a princess today...

“Yeah,” the younger demon answered, “It's fine. You can sit wherever you want, man. As long as you've got a good view of me and Jude -”

Clare's sentence was interrupted by a few knocks at the bedroom door. Two familiar people were standing in the hallway. Jude's uncle Michael was standing in the doorway, peering into the room at a respectful distance. And just over his shoulder, Clare caught a glimpse of Meg's pale face. She was positioned behind the archangel as if she was using him as a shield between her and Crowley.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Michael said politely, “but Dean and Castiel dispatched me to fly all of you to the bunker for the wedding.”

“Bollocks. It's barely seven o'clock in the bloody morning. Why do they need us there so damn early?!” Crowley grumbled.

Michael shrugged, seeming unsure of how to properly respond to the demon's outburst. Clare briefly met eyes with his mom over the archangel's shoulder and could tell that she was lingering around on purpose. It looked like she wanted to talk to Clare, but was politely waiting her turn. Clare cleared his own throat and patted Crowley's back.

“Because they're anxious. Hell, we all are,” Clare explained, giving Crowley a gentle nudge, “Go ahead. I'll meet you in the kitchen.”

Though he was still distraught, Crowley huffed a breath and dragged himself up to stand and straight his suit. He made his way swiftly passed Michael, pausing only once to give Meg a look that Clare couldn't see, and journeyed down the hall. Michael spared one more look at Clare.

“I'll wait for you there as well,” the angel in the denim jacket mentioned.

Michael turned and followed Crowley, leaving Meg standing alone in the hall. Clare took in the sight of her again, noting her tiny smile, wavy hair, and slouched posture. She was wearing a ruffled, fitted gray shirt today, with black dress pants and black boots. It was clear that someone else – possibly Jessica or Oliver's mother – had picked out her clothing for the wedding. But she looked absolutely stunning. Clare grinned and instantly stood up from the bed.

“Hey,” he greeted, waving her over, “Come on in. You look great today.”

“Not as good as you,” Meg mumbled, taking in his entire outfit, “Looks like you're headed to a red carpet somewhere.”

“Nope. Just the altar,” Clare shrugged.

Meg curled some of her hair behind her ear and went quiet. It seemed like she had a lot on her mind this morning. And for some reason, her eyes wouldn't meet Clare's properly. She kept glancing from the floor to the walls, digging her hands further and further into her pockets.

“I... I was, um... hoping we could talk?” she asked timidly.

“Sure,” Clare instantly agreed, sitting back down on his bed and patting the space next to him, “Here. You can sit next to me.”

Meg smiled a little and eventually made her way over to sit down. Clare could tell just from the lack of motion on the bed that his mother didn't weigh very much at all. She was extremely skinny and pale – just like he had been when he first started his own rehabilitation. Meg took a deep breath and finally removed her hands from her pockets so that she could stare down at them.

“So, uh... I found out what happened to you,” she began somberly.

Clare's eyes narrowed. Found out what happened? What was she talking about? It wasn't until Meg finally turned her head to meet his stare that Clare understood. Oh, shit. Someone told her about his past...

“Dammit,” Clare huffed under his breath, feeling anger trying to creep into his happy mood, “Who told you?”

“It doesn't matter,” Meg suggested sadly, shaking her head, “The point is... I heard about what you had to go through. All that – that pain and suffering. All because of me -”

“It's not your fault -”

Meg held up her hand in protest, cutting Clare's rebuttal short with an expression of woefulness.

“Just... lemme get this out, okay?” she asked.

Even though he felt like arguing her innocence, Clare forced his mouth closed. Maybe Meg had been rehearsing this in her head or something and needed to say it out loud. With Clare's cooperation, Meg gulped hard and continued, braiding her small fingers together in her lap.

“It wasn't fair,” she stated, shaking her head again, “What I did to you, what you had to go through. It wasn't fair. There are so many things I should have done differently. The problem is, I didn't realize it at the time. People say hindsight is twenty-twenty, and they're right. If I could go back and change it, I would do it in a heartbeat. You're – you're such a good kid,” she hummed, turning to look up at him with a watery-eyed smile, “and you deserve so much more than what you had to live through.”

Clare watched a tear leak from the corner of his mother's eye and slide down her pale cheek as she blinked up at him.

“No amount of apologies could ever change what I did. Or what I didn't do,” she said, her voice cracking a little, “But I really am sorry. So sorry that I couldn't be the mother you needed -”

“You don't have to be sorry,” Clare blurted.

He couldn't stand listening to the pain in Meg's voice anymore. It was breaking his heart. But, more importantly, her pain was completely unnecessary. Because Clare's past wasn't all bad...

“Really, it's okay,” he assured, “I had a great childhood. Look.”

The demon sprang up from the bed to retrieve the black photo album before proceeding to hand it to Meg. The female demon wiped her eyes before opening the cover to see his baby picture inside. A sudden smile blossomed on her face as she stared at the blonde toddler in the picture.

“That's you?” Meg asked.

“Yeah. This was my first family,” Clare explained, turning the page to the picture with all his witch moms, “These women found me, fed me, clothed me, gave me a home... And they told me that my real mom loved me.”

Clare turned to the last page, showing Meg the picture of him curled up with her purple leather jacket. Meg's expression filled with a mixture of wonder and heartbreak as she blinked down at the old photo.

“See? Even though we never met, you were always in my life,” Clare explained, “In fact, you're the reason I came to the Winchesters in the first place. You led me straight to them, and they led me straight to you... The bottom line is that you're my mom and you're here now. Honestly, that's all I care about. To hell with the rest.”

Meg let out a breathless chuckle before raising her head to look fondly up at Clare again. She was smiling and crying. And the sight was making the lump return to Clare's throat. In an effort to save his tears for later – because he knew he would need them – Clare stood up from the bed and nodded toward the door.

“We should probably get going,” he mentioned.

“Oh, wait,” Meg called, “One more thing.”

Clare turned and watched her stand up from the bed. She left the photo album on the mattress so that she could reach into her pocket and pull out a very small box. Clare eyed the box, realizing that it looked similar to something that an engagement ring would come in.

“I, um, don't really have any money,” she began with a grimace, “but I wanted to get you something. For your wedding.”

Meg smiled and held out the small box, which Clare took into his hand. He grinned and flipped open the lid to see a small brown guitar pick inside. It was the classic tear drop shape but the tip was pretty dull. The pick had seen better days, but Clare didn't mind. This was all Meg could afford, and he was grateful that she even thought of him.

“Thank you. I can totally use this,” Clare smiled, taking the pick out of the box to hold it toward the light.

“I'm glad you like it,” Meg nodded, “'Cause I, uh, stole it from a museum.”

Clare's smile dimmed as he looked back to his mom. She stole a guitar pick from a museum? Why?

“A museum?” he repeated.

“Yep,” she smirked, “That's the guitar pick Jimi Hendrix used at Woodstock back in '69.”

For five solid seconds, Clarence wasn't sure if his own heart was beating or not. He was completely frozen in place with his unblinking eyes fixed on the brown pick between his fingers. Holy shit! This wasn't a guitar pick, it was a historical rock 'n roll artifact! It belonged to one of the greatest guitarists to ever walk the face of the Earth, and was used at the most iconic musical festival the world had ever seen! _Clare was actually holding Jimi Hendrix's guitar pick in his own hand_!

“This... What... I...” Clare stammered breathlessly, shaking his head, “This belonged to Hendrix?!”

“Yeah, it did. But it belongs to you now, kid,” Meg said with a shrug, “It was just collecting dust in a glass case. I figured it ought to be used again by another legendary guitar player. That way, the music never dies, right?”

The tears that Clare tried so hard to contain finally broke free. He felt one hot drop race down the edge of his cheekbone as he blinked toward the woman standing in front of him. Right then, he knew. This was it. This was the moment Clare had waited his whole life for. His mother had finally come back. She was there, giving him a meaningful gift from a far-away place, reveling with him in their shared love of music.

Clare's inner child was finally at peace.

With the pick still in his hand, Clare opened his arms and took a step forward. He caught a glimpse of surprise and awe flash on Meg's face just before he rested his head on her shoulder and circled both arms around her slender frame. After a second, he felt her hands gently slide up his back to return the embrace. And just like that, they were hugging. Their first official hug as mother and son. And _that_ was the only gift that Clarence ever really wanted from her.

“Thank you so much... Mom,” he mumbled warmly.

The two of them stood in the loving embrace for several seconds, silently holding onto each other in the stillness of Clare's bedroom. Meg probably didn't know it, but Clare could feel that he was passing a milestone; one he had struggled to get to for most of his life. And now that it was met, he felt almost complete... _Almost_. There was still one giant, personal goal he needed to accomplish before the day was done. After discretely getting rid of the pesky tear that got away, Clare raised his head and finally let go of his mother.

“So, I have to go get married now,” he casually mentioned.

“Yeah,” Meg chuckled a little, wiping some of the moisture from her own cheeks, “I'm glad you're -”

“ _Clarence, dear,_ ” Rowena's voice interrupted from the kitchen, “ _Yer wee fiance is bound to be frettin' over ya. Let's get a move on, lamb._ ”

“Alright. We're coming,” Clare called back loudly.

The demon offered his arm out to Meg and nodded toward the door.

“Rowena is prone to exploding on a whim. We probably need to go before she snaps,” Clare mentioned humorously.

Meg smiled again before reaching up to carefully hook her arm around Clare's.

“It's the red hair,” Meg quietly theorized, “That's why they're called 'gingersnaps.'”

Clare laughed out loud at the joke, shaking his head as he led his mom out the door.

“I'll have to tell Oliver that one,” Clare hummed.

* * *

Jude had never been so nervous in his whole life.

From the moment he opened his eyes on the morning of his wedding day, he was clammy, flustered, and red faced. For the first three hours, people came in and out of his bed room in waves; waking him up, bringing him food, asking his preference of seating, getting him dressed, offering him advice. He almost felt like Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz; trapped in a cyclone of people and voices. Was this how every wedding day went? Was it normal to feel so scared and nervous? Or was Jude having it worse because of his own insecurity?

By the time he finally got to sit down on his bed and take a breath, Jude realized that Jessie was sitting there next to him. She was already in her bride's maid dress – a silver cotton sundress with a small bow in the back – and was sipping from a large slurpie cup. Though her dress was gray, her underlying glow made it look more yellow around her stomach – which was _huge_. Jude had never seen such a large stomach before. Man, Jess was really pregnant.

“Dean, where did you put Jude's socks? He needs his socks. He cannot wear his shoes without them,” Papa asked as he walked around searching Jude's bedroom.

“I don't know where they are, babe. I'm trying to get this damn camera to work, okay?” Dad grumbled back, smacking the device in his hands a few times.

“Found them,” Papa gasped, walking back to hand Jude a pair of white socks with a smile, “Here you are, son. Put them on and I will retrieve your dress shoes. As soon as I find them.”

Instead of walking out of the room, Papa disappeared from the spot he was standing in. But someone else came in to take his place. Uncle Adam stepped into Jude's bedroom with a polite smile, searching around until he saw Dad.

“Uh, Dean? Apparently there's a problem with the music. Jane's in there cursing at an Ipod. It's getting pretty scary,” Adam informed.

Jude turned on the bed to look at his dad just in time to see him growl and throw the camera in his hand on the ground like a touchdown football. Everyone else flinched at the sound of the plastic shattering on the floor, all shocked by Dad's violent actions.

“... and it's just as scary in here. Wow,” Adam quietly added, “Okay. Should I just run to the store and get another Ipod, or...?”

“No. You know what? Screw all this new technology bullshit. We're going old school. I'm breaking out the record player,” Dad grumbled, stomping over to the door but pausing to toss a glance at Jude, “Jude, I'll be right back.”

As soon as Dad and Adam left, Papa popped back into the room holding a pair of white shoes. He was almost instantly followed by uncle Gabe, who popped in with a smile. Jude was actually relieved to see his uncle Gabe, because the night before, he had sent the archangel on a secret mission...

“Here are your shoes, son. Do you need me to assist you in putting them on?” Papa offered kindly.

“Geez, Cassie. He's an adult, you know. You don't have to help him tie his shoes. He's a big boy,” uncle Gabe scoffed.

Papa paused to narrow his eyes toward his blonde brother, seeming offended by his comments.

“What do you want, Gabriel? I am trying to get my son ready for his wedding day,” Pop grumbled.

“Relax. I'm bringing a special delivery,” Gabe replied.

After he gave his answer, uncle Gabe tossed a small box toward Jude, who caught it awkwardly. Jude smiled and instantly opened the lid to look down inside. There, tucked neatly into a small pillow, were two cufflinks in the shape of music notes. Jude had Gabe go out and get them for him, so that he could give them to Clarence before the wedding. It was the only way Jude knew how to repay him for the Superman cufflinks he got from Clare the week before. And the shiny metal music notes were perfect.

“Thank you so much, Gabe. These are perfect,” Jude beamed from the bed.

“Eh, don't mention it, sidekick. I just want your day to be extra special,” Gabe winked.

“ _Gabe! Get in here!_ ” uncle Sam called angrily from a different part of the bunker, “ _Dickie just humped the arch and knocked it over! No, Dickie! Bad dog! Come here!_ ”

The humor fled uncle Gabe's face and he backed toward the door.

“Uh, I'd better go take care of that,” he smiled nervously, “I'll catch you later!”

As Gabe ran off, Jude felt the box in his hand being tugged out of his grasp. Jessie had reached over to take the cufflinks and look at them fondly.

“Jude, you got these for Clare?” Jess hummed, “Aww, that's so sweet! He's gonna love these!”

Jude smiled and peered down at the music notes again.

“I hope so,” he replied.

“You're such a sweet boyfriend... Or, I guess 'husband' is more accurate, right?” Jess mentioned as she handed the box back to him, “I would share some advice about being married, but so far, I've just been dealing with back aches and heartburn from carrying around this little girl.”

Near the end of her sentence, Jess gently patted her rounded stomach and Jude couldn't help but look back to the large baby bump and smile. He was so happy for Jess and Ollie. Not only were they freshly married, but also about to have their very own baby. Jessie took another drink from her slurpie and sighed as if she was exhausted.

“Trust me, Jude. You don't want to be pregnant like this,” she mumbled.

Jude gulped, feeling his face fill with even more heat. Jessie couldn't have been more wrong. Jude actually _did_ want to be pregnant like that...

“The groom's here!”

Jude gasped and looked toward the bedroom door, where Ollie came prancing inside.

“Jude, Clare's here. He just got here with the rest of the Singers,” Ollie informed, reaching both hands out to Jessie, “Come on, Jess. I'm gonna help you walk to the study.”

A twinge of panic mixed in with Jude's nausea and excitement. If Clare was in the bunker, that meant the wedding was close to starting! Though he was sick at his stomach, Jude helped Oliver get Jessie to her feet. She cradled her own large belly as she stood, straightening her back with a grimace. Though it seemed like she was in some discomfort, Jessie still managed to smile and hug Jude.

“I'll see you when the ceremony starts, okay?” she said, “Don't be nervous. Everything's gonna be amazing.”

Jess must have felt him shaking or something, but Jude was grateful for the advice. The cousins smiled at each other before Ollie and Jess left the room. When they left, Dad came back in with a calmer look on his face. And Jude purposefully shut the door behind him. Jude didn't want Clare to come in and see him. Not yet...

“Okay. Music's all set up,” Dad informed Papa and Jude, “I've got Sam recording the whole thing on his phone and Jane's taking pictures. Everything's ready to go.”

“But _we_ are not ready to go,” Papa disputed, “Dean, I must finish getting Jude dressed. I will not have him saying his vows on bare feet.”

“Cas, _relax_. The study's still empty. There's plenty of time. I just wanted you to know everything else is good to go,” Dad assured.

To help bring some ease to his Papa's mind, Jude quickly slid his socks and shoes on. He may not have been able to calm his own nerves, but he could at least make Papa feel better.

“I'm dressed now, Pop. It's okay,” Jude pointed out.

When his parents both paused to look at him, the same expression bloomed on their faces. They were both taking in the sight of Jude in his white suit, tilting their heads slightly and biting their lips as if to hold in tears. They looked happy, yet sad somehow. And it kind of made Jude want to cry, too.

“Wh – what?” Jude asked.

Dad gulped hard and shook his head, while Pop took a small breath and held onto his own trench coat.

“Y – you are so beautiful, Jude,” Papa breathed, his low voice full of emotion, “Just as beautiful as the first time I held you in my arms...”

“Babe, come on. It's too early to start crying. We haven't even started down the aisle yet,” Dad murmured, even though he sounded just as emotional.

While Jude and his parents shared the bittersweet moment, a knock came from the closed bedroom door, interrupting the moment.

“Excuse me, is there a Mr. Clark Kent on the premises?” Clare's humorous voice called from the hall.

Jude was surprised to find that hearing his fiance's voice didn't make him more nervous. In fact, hearing Clare talk actually made Jude feel _better_. Jude smiled at the bottom of the door, where he could see Clare's shadow on the floor.

“H – Hey, Clare,” Jude replied.

“Hey there, Jay,” Clare said, “Can I come in?”

“ _No_ ,” Jude blurted, pushing up against the door for good measure.

Clare seemed understandably confused.

“No?” he repeated, “Why not? Are you naked? Because I've already seen you -”

“Hi, Clare,” Dad boomed loudly to stop Clare from saying anymore.

“Oh, shit,” Jude heard Clare mumbled, “Uh, hey Dean. And anyone else in there. Um, why can't I come in?”

“Because it's bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding,” Jude reminded.

The sound of Clare's chuckle made goosebumps rise on Jude's skin.

“Jay, I already told you. You're not a bride,” the demon said.

“Still,” Jude shrugged, staring at the door, “I don't want you to see me yet.”

“Oh. Okay,” Clare mumbled, sounding disappointed.

“But I'm glad you're here. Because I got you something,” Jude mentioned.

The angel quickly dashed to grab the small box from the bed before kneeling down on the floor behind the door. Jude slid the closed box between the gap, wiggling it out in the hallway.

“Here,” Jude hummed, “It's a wedding present.”

“Aww, Jay, you didn't have to get me anything,” Clare said modestly.

Thankfully, after a few seconds, Jude felt the box leave his hand. The angel waited patiently behind the door, anxious to hear his fiance's reaction to the musical cufflinks. The heavenly sound of Clare's laughter eventually came through, making Jude feel as light as a feather.

“Oh my God, these are awesome,” Clare said excitedly, “Where did you find these?”

“I asked uncle Gabe to find them for you,” Jude answered, “You like them?”

“Like 'em? I'm putting them on right now,” Clare said excitedly.

After another second, Clare's entire hand slid under the door, revealing the metal music note on the sleeve of his black suit. They looked perfect next to his guitar string scarred fingers.

“What do you think?” he asked, wiggling his fingers.

Instead of replying with words, Jude only reached down to tangle his own fingers in Clare's, affectionately holding his hand to show that he adored it. Clare's hand tightened back and gently started to slide away, tugging Jude's hand under the door. Once Jude's hand – which sported his white suit sleeve and Superman cufflink – was on the other side, he felt a warm, moist pair of lips press against the back. Jude could almost feel the sensation in every part of his body, including his soul.

“I love you so much, Jude,” Clare's voice said quietly, “I'll meet you at the altar, okay?”

Jude smiled and wiggled his fingers inside Clare's.

“Yeah,” Jude hummed, “Meet you there.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, the lighthearted chaos and excitement that happens before a wedding. ;) I know there wasn't much 'action' in this chapter, but I wanted to give some of the characters a chance to talk and grow a little bit. ;) I really wanted Meg to give Clarence a special gift, and a guitar pick from the legendary Jimi Hendrix seemed appropriate. ;D Is his actual guitar pick actually on display in a museum next to his guitars? I have no idea. Possibly. And if it is, please don't pull a Meg and steal it, no matter how tempted you may feel. (Though, I will look away if you absolutely must.) ;D (Also, _Sammy's rose_ , I totally stole that 'Gingersnap' thing from you. Hope you don't mind!) ;D I know that the wedding didn't actually start in this chapter, but I promise all of it will be in the next one! :D Also, I do believe that the first episode of the last season of SPN will air between now and then, so if you are watching it, I wish you and your feels good luck! No matter how much the show hurts your heart this week, I promise that chapter 12 of this fic will mend it. Because it will be jam packed full of Judence fluff! :D Guys, thank you so, so, so much for keeping up with this story for so long, and for sharing your comments with me! I love you guys! :D The next chapter – with the wedding! – will be out soon! :)


	12. Chapter 12

It was almost like the sound of Jude's heartbeat was hooked up to a sound amplifier. The loud thumping echoed hard from his chest, vibrating every other part of his body. The word 'nervous' couldn't rightfully describe his state of being anymore. The same feeling of flying he was terrified of as a child was back and magnified by a hundred. Not only was he fully dressed on his wedding day, but now he was preparing to walk down the aisle.

Jude was so grateful to have his Papa standing next to him. It was only the two of them in the hall together, waiting on Dad to come back from the study so all three could walk in as a group. Even though it was just the two of them, Jude still had a tight, shaky grip on Pop's arm. He honestly felt so nervous that he thought he might throw up, and Papa could tell.

“What is the matter, Jude?” Papa asked, “Are you having second thoughts? We can cancel this arrangement at anytime -”

“N – no,” Jude answered, shaking his head, “I want to marry Clare. I just... I know that everybody is going to be staring at me when I do.”

Only a few days earlier, Jude was in awe of Jess and Ollie and how they could stand and deliver such heartfelt vows in the view of so many people. Jude was getting sick just thinking about having that much attention... Papa reached up to gently cup Jude's face and turn it toward him. Jude looked straight ahead into his Papa's blue eyes, instantly feeling an abundance of comfort.

“There is nothing to be afraid of, my son,” Papa hummed, “Only fifteen people will be in attendance, including your fiance. And every single person loves you very deeply.”

Jude smiled a little. Wow. That was a really sweet thought...

“But if you are in this much discomfort, I can force the audience to look away until it is over,” Pop casually suggested.

Jude chuckled once, shaking his head. Papa was such a funny, sweet, caring, thoughtful guy. To show him some gratitude, Jude reached up to pull his Papa into a tight hug, briefly resting his head on Pop's shoulder and taking a deep breath of his familiar scent.

“That's okay, Pop. But thank you anyway... Thank you for everything,” Jude mumbled quietly.

Papa's gentle arms came up to wrap snugly around Jude's back, and the sensation made Jude feel like a little kid again. No matter what was going on in Jude's life, he knew that peace and comfort were always there for him in his Papa's arms.

“You are most welcome, Jude. And I love you very much,” Papa answered back, “I could not be any prouder of you than I am today.”

Jude gulped and hugged his papa a little tighter, trying to stop the tears before they started. Jude couldn't cry yet. He hadn't even made it into the study!

“I love you too, Papa,” Jude replied, holding down emotion as he did.

During their embrace, Jude heard the sound of footsteps approaching, so he carefully let go to see who was coming. Dad, dressed in a solid gray suit with a white boutonniere, walked up to Jude and Papa with a look of determination mixed with an undertone of annoyance. His green eyes met Papa first.

“If I hear Gabriel tell one more knock-knock joke, I'm gonna lose it,” Dad grumbled, turning to brace both of his hands on Jude's shoulders, “Little man? How are you holding up?”

Jude felt the heat surge on his face. Why did Dad still have to call him little man? He wasn't little. He was about to get married.

“He is worried about everyone staring at him, Dean,” Papa blurted, “Perhaps we should encourage everyone to look away upon our journey to the altar -”

“No, it's okay,” Jude interrupted, “I – I'll be okay. I just -”

The hum of music suddenly cut down the hall, abruptly lodging Jude's voice in his throat. The sound of Paul McCartney singing 'Hey Jude' was usually comforting to him, but now it made his heart nearly leap from his chest. That was it; that was the cue for them to start walking down the aisle. Jude's parents shared a look before turning their attention to him.

“Okay. That's the signal. Are you ready for this, buddy? Do you have your vows?” Dad asked.

Although every fiber of his being was terrified, Jude bit his lip, forced a nod, and patted his pocket where his scribbled notes were. He wanted to marry Clarence with all of his heart, even if he had to face one of his greatest fears to do it. Dad nodded and stepped over to offer an arm on Jude's left, while Papa hooked his arm around Jude's right.

“Take a deep breath, Jude. Everything will be wonderful,” Papa muttered quietly.

After sharing another look, Jude's parents began to step forward, carefully tugging him along. Jude's eyes instantly dropped to the floor and tried to give himself a mental pep talk as they moved. ' _Relax. Dad and Pop are here. Everyone's gonna stare at them, not you_.' Unfortunately, no matter how hard he tried to redirect his anxiety, Jude couldn't get rid of the terror in his gut. His feet were moving in stride with his parents' and the sound of 'Hey Jude' was slowly getting louder. They were making their way through the control room, now; Jude could tell by the tile on the floor that he refused to move his eyes away from. By the time they made it to the steps of the library entrance, Jude felt like he was going to faint. He could almost feel every member of his family gazing directly at his face.

“Jude,” Dad whispered discretely, “Look up.”

At first, Jude didn't want to look up. He knew he would be greeted by the sight of everyone's undivided attention and the thought made him want to vomit. But then, Dad and Papa paused their steps and Jude had no choice but to raise his head and see why. A solid white runner was laid out before Jude's feet. It cut between two small groups of people – Jude and Clair's family – who were all standing and smiling by their chairs. They were all dressed so nicely, and Jude was surprised to find that he didn't mind their attention as much as he thought he would. The library itself didn't look like the library at all. Black and white sheets were hung against the walls, making it look like the inside of a fancy tent rather than a room in the bunker. The runner on the floor drew Jude's sight straight ahead, where he saw Grandpa Chuck standing and smiling under the metal arch in the middle of the room... and at his side was Jude's fiance, who had a peculiar look on his face.

Dad and Papa started walking again, tugging Jude along as they smoothly strode along with the slow melody of the song, but Jude's sight was firmly fixed on Clarence now. Clare looked absolutely amazing in his suit; like a swanky, sophisticated high roller with a bad boy streak. But his expression was what really caught Jude's eye. Clare was staring back at Jude with the softest expression imaginable. His mouth was slightly open, eyes were large, and his hands were fidgeting at his sides. Clare looked – _intimidated_. Which was bizarre, because Jude had never seen Clare intimidated by anyone before. Not his father, not his mother, not even Michael or Lucifer. No one was able to compromise Clare's cool composure. Until now, it seemed...

Thankfully, once his eyes were on Clarence, Jude's nerves calmed down quite a bit. He could still feel eyes glued to him as he walked, but he was slightly more comfortable. 'Hey Jude', which was playing from a record player in the corner, gently cut off when Jude and his parents got to the end of the runner. With wide eyes still on Jude, Clare finally smiled and reached out both of his hands. Dad instantly relinquished Jude's hand, sliding it off his arm to give it to Clare. Papa, however, didn't seem to realize what was happening. He continued to hold fiercely to Jude's arm.

“Babe. You've gotta let go,” Dad eventually whispered among the four of them under his breath.

Papa blinked his blue eyes at Dad, seeming too confused – or unwilling – to comply with the instructions. Jude gently tugged on his own arm.

“It's okay, Papa. I'm gonna stand up here with Clare, now,” Jude explained.

Though he looked utterly heartbroken, Papa gulped, nodded, and begrudgingly allowed Jude's hand to slide away so that it could meet Clare's. Once Papa let go, Dad reached over to take him by the arm and escort him to the seats nearby. Their absence left Jude and Clare alone at the altar with Grandpa Chuck beside them, who gestured to the crowd beyond and spoke with a warm tone.

But, for a moment, Jude was simply unaware of what his Grandpa was saying. The sound of his own internal heartbeat was so loud, that his ears were starting to ring. He felt Clare's fingers tighten around his own as they stood facing each other at the front of the room full of staring people. Jude was mesmerized by Clare's handsome face; unable to look anywhere but into his eyes, and then down at his pink lips when they started to move.

“Jay, I can feel you shaking,” Clare whispered worriedly under the sound of Grandpa Chuck's voice, “Don't worry, okay? This won't take long.”

Jude blinked several times. Was he shaking? A glance toward their trembling hands confirmed that Clare was right. Jude's hands were almost vibrating inside Clare's. But how was he supposed to stop it? For a moment, Jude focused on trying to get his limbs to quit rattling. It took almost every ounce of willpower to calm his nerves enough to stand in a more relaxed posture. And by the time he was still enough to erase the worry from Clare's face, he realized he was hearing his own name again.

“Jude?”

Jude raised his head to look at his Grandpa, who was staring back at him fondly.

“Huh?” the angel blurted.

The faint sound of a few chuckles from the audience made Jude's tremble start right back up. But Grandpa Chuck remained respectful and calm.

“I asked you if you wanted to say your vows first,” Grandpa explained.

“Actually, I want to go first,” Clare announced.

Everyone in the room looked to the blonde demon, who was smirking devilishly. Jude couldn't deny that he was grateful that Clare offered to go first. Not only would it give Jude more time to get comfortable, but Jude was honestly excited to hear what his fiance had to say. With his misty-eyed smile intact, Grandpa Chuck gestured forward and took a step back.

“The floor is yours, Clare,” he allowed.

With all the confidence in the world, Clare eased his shoulders back, tugged Jude a little closer by the hands, and stared ahead into Jude's eyes.

“So, uh... I've had a complicated life. Obviously,” Clare began, which warranted a few more giggles from their family, “When I was a teenager, all I ever wanted was a family. You know, mom. Dad. Brothers and sisters. Maybe a crazy uncle or eccentric grandpa. The kind of family that normal kids took for granted. I got jealous of other people my age, and then eventually started to hate them. So, needless to say, I wasn't actively searching for a soul mate when I was younger. Who would want a family-less, drug addict lost boy, right? … That was how I felt _before_ I first stumbled into this bunker.”

Jude beamed toward his fiance, remembering in great detail the Halloween night that Clare first walked into his life. Clare smiled back with a twinkle in his eye, curling his fingers further into Jude's hands as he continued.

“I know I always bring this up, but I can't get over how perfect it was,” Clare forwarded, “The night I first met you, Jude, I needed rescued pretty badly. And you were dressed from head to toe as Superman.”

Again, the sound of their family's subtle laughter echoed around them, reminding Jude that they were listening to Clare just as much as he was. Clare was right, though. Their first meeting was nothing short of perfect. Clare's smile dimmed into a more serious look.

“And just like Superman, you really did rescue me,” the demon reminded, “I was lost, and you found me. And you gave me way more than just unconditional love. You gave me the family I always wanted,” he paused to gesture toward the crowd next to them with a smile, “It seems like every day, you save me from myself. And I – I will honestly never be able to repay you.”

Jude gulped, feeling his heart thump inside his ribcage. Clare didn't have to repay him for anything...

“But I swear, from this moment on, I will do everything in my power to make you feel the same amount of love and happiness that you make me feel,” Clare vowed, “When you're sad, I'll cheer you up. When you're worried, I'll calm you down. When you're scared, I'll protect you. If someone pisses you off, I'll kick their ass. No questions asked,” Clare grinned, which gained a few more chuckles from their family, “I swear that I'm gonna love you, and only you, for the rest of my life, Jude. There's literally no one else on this Earth that I would rather be with than you. Whatever you need from me, you've got it. My heart, my soul, my mind, my present _and_ my future – everything that I am belongs to you. It always has... I guess what I'm trying to say is that I've always been your husband. We just didn't know it at the time. Now, it's official. And I can't wait for us to spend the rest of our lives together.”

Jude gulped, trying very hard to swallow the blockage in his throat. Clarence was so right. They had been husbands all along, hadn't they? Hot moisture was building in Jude's eyes, but he tried his best to keep it contained. He didn't want to cry yet. Not when he still had to speak out loud... With Clare's speech over, Jude felt Grandpa Chuck's hand come up and rest on his shoulder.

“Jude,” Grandpa hummed, “Do you want to say your vows?”

Another dose of terror shot through Jude's body, but he forced himself to nod. Stage fright or no, he wasn't going to let anything stop him from saying his vows to Clarence. Jude swallowed again and briefly released Clare's hands so that he could dig out the paper in his pocket. It was slightly crumpled up and had multiple scribbles; resembling a physical version of Jude's own feelings at the moment. Once he had the words on paper in front of him, Jude reached his free hand back out to grab Clare's. It took him a few seconds to find his own voice.

“Cl – Clare,” Jude began, tone weak and airy as he glanced between the messy paper and Clare's devastatingly handsome face, “I – I have been waiting for this day since I... since I was a little kid,” Jude explained, pausing to clear his throat so he could speak better, “I grew up watching my Dad and my Papa being in love. They were – and still are – so sweet to each other. Always kissing and holding hands and saying how much they love each other.”

Jude took a second to steal a glance toward the very front seats, where Dad and Pop were curled toward each other – and they were both crying a lot. The sight of their tears made Jude feel slightly guilty, but he quickly kept talking, not wanting to lose track of his speech.

“A – and I hoped that one day, I would be able to have the same kind of love,” Jude explained, bringing his attention back to Clare, “The kind of love that you wouldn't think twice about dying for. The kind of love that makes you forget all your worst mistakes, and makes you feel valuable and cherished. The kind of love that can make time stop, or reverse it altogether. The kind of love that changes you, and the world, forever... And that's exactly the kind of love that we have.”

When Jude spared another glance up, the warm smile on Clare's face made him pause just to take it in. Clare looked so perfect like that; so happy and awed. Though he wanted to just stand there and stare at Clare for a while, Jude quickly picked up where he left off, searching for the spot on his notes.

“Of course, it didn't start out that way,” Jude carefully admitted, sheepishly looking back up to Clare, “Sorry again about punching you in the face...”

A couple of snickers came from their family and Clare grinned.

“I deserved it,” the demon briefly whispered with a wink.

The two of them shared a mutual hand squeeze. Once the audience settled down, Jude started again.

“It took some time, but we eventually got there,” Jude remembered fondly, “and now, it's hard for me to think about my life without you. Clare, before we met, I was scared of everything. I was scared of the dark, heights, flying, talking in front of people – Actually, that last one is still true. I'm feeling it right now,” Jude admitted, looking up, “But I know I can do it. Because you're here to hold my hand,” Jude paused again to give Clare's fingers a squeeze, “You make me brave, Clare. You help me fly. _You_ make me feel like I really am Superman.”

Clare's eyebrows curved upward and his smile softened. His eyes were welling up with tears too, and it made Jude want to reach out and hug him. But he knew he had to finish saying his vows. With the sounds of various sniffles coming from all around the study, Jude looked back to his paper.

“And like Superman, I'm always gonna be there to help you,” he said, “I vow to protect you from anyone who would be stupid enough to try to hurt you, no matter who it is. I promise to love you – even the deepest, darkest parts of your past – without judgment. I will respect and honor all of the people you deem family, even those who are no longer with us. And I swear that I will always take care of you. You never have to worry about being without a family or a home, Clare, because I will make sure you have both forever.”

Jude paused again to gulp, feeling unsure if he should say the last part on the back of the paper. He didn't know if it would be the right thing to mention during his vows, but decided that Clare needed to hear it.

“Also, I – I just wanted to say... Thank you,” Jude mumbled lowly, glancing up at Clare from under his eyelashes, “Thanks for always being there and helping me get through some tough times. And I love you with all my heart.”

Clare bit his bottom lip and nodded, which caused a tear to leak from his eye. Instinctively, Jude stuffed the paper back into his suit pocket so that he could reach up and rub the tear away from Clare's cheek. Clare cupped the back of Jude's hand with his own against his face and stole a kiss to Jude's thumb in the process.

“Love you too, Jay,” the demon whispered.

The two of them smiled at each other until the sound of a loud sniffle came from the crowd. Jude looked toward the multiple seated people to his right – and quickly noticed that nearly every single one of them was crying. Especially Dad and Papa, who were hugging each other tight. The sight made Jude feel bad. Oops. He didn't mean to make everyone cry...

Grandpa Chuck's hand jutted out between Jude and Clarence, refocusing Jude's attention. Grandpa's hand opened, revealing two rings; one was Jude's diamond-studded engagement ring, and the other was its exact twin. Clare and Jude both quickly reached up to grab a ring each before taking the time to carefully slide them onto each others' fingers. Clare's ring went on in a heartbeat. But Jude, being so shaky, took a few more seconds. Once their rings were on, they held hands again and waited for Grandpa to speak.

“Clarence,” he began, his voice so comforting, “Do you take Jude as your husband?”

“Yes,” Clare instantly nodded, “I do.”

“And Jude, do you take Clare as _your_ husband?” Grandpa asked.

“I do,” Jude hummed.

“Then it's my great honor to pronounce you both officially married,” Grandpa beamed, patting them both on the shoulders, “You may now seal it with a kiss.”

A sudden uproar of applause and cheering came from from the left, which startled Jude so much that he flinched away in surprise. But he was quickly and delicately pulled into Clare's loving embrace, where their lips collided with a set of grins. Jude held onto the back of Clare's blonde head of hair as their tongues briefly met, allowing himself to get lost in the sensation of kissing his husband – _his husband_! Not future husband, not fiance, not boyfriend. Once and for all, Clarence was finally Jude's _husband_ , and their kiss had never tasted so good...

When Clare backed up, he turned to raise their joined hands with a shout of excitement, as if he had won Jude like a huge prize and was eager to show him off. Afterward, 'Hey Jude' picked up on the record player again, and Clare pulled Jude close so that they could walk back down the aisle together. As they walked, family members from both sides tossed white rose petals and baby's breath into the air at them, creating floral confetti. Flashes were also coming from somewhere nearby, which Jude realized was a camera taking pictures.

It all happened in such a whirlwind that Jude barely knew where he was going. He just clung to Clare's torso and followed him until the noise quieted down and the song sounded far away. When he looked up, Jude realized that Clare was leading him all the way out of the library, through the control room, and down the hallway. Jude glanced back to see that their family was following them at a distance – the closest being Jane with the camera.

“Wh – where are we going?” Jude asked his new husband.

“Well, the reception is set up in the garage. I figure that's where we should head, right?” Clare smirked.

There was something about Clare's devilish smile that made Jude highly suspicious. There had to be a reason that Clare was so eager to get to the reception. But for the life of him, Jude had no idea what it was...

When Jude entered the bunker garage in his husband's arms, his jaw nearly hit the floor. This room of the bunker, much like the library, had been completely transformed. The cars were all still there, parked in a group at the far end, but the space near the door held three large round tables and one long table, all draped with black and white tablecloths and housing various chairs. The long table displayed lots of food containers, cups, plates, bottles of alcohol, a few gift bags – and, of course, their three tiered wedding cake. The two bottom tiers were covered in black and white icing, looking very stylish. But the top tier was a plastic bridge, on which their small stuffed otters were propped up and holding hands. The sight of his familiar childhood toys made Jude gasp.

“Clare, look!” he smiled, tugging the demon over so that they could see the cake properly, “Our otters are the cake toppers!”

“I know. Adorable, right?” Clare hummed.

“Are you guys cutting the cake now?” the sound of Jess's excited voice asked from across the room.

“Why don't you do presents first and then we can eat afterward,” uncle Sam suggested loudly.

Jude and Clare turned around to face the crowd that was gathering into the garage behind them. Their family was all lining in to chose seats at the round tables – and that's when Jude noticed the two chairs near the middle of the room. They were empty and facing each other... with a microphone set up between them and Clare's black guitar propped near by...

“Actually, you all find seats. I've got something else to do first,” Clare called.

Jude wanted to ask Clare what was going on, but the demon took the angel's hand and led him through the room before he could speak. Clare headed straight to those two seats before he stopped and turned to smile at Jude.

“Jay, sit here for a second,” he said quietly, gesturing toward the vacant chair.

Though he was confused, Jude gulped and sat down. The position of the chair put everyone else at Jude's back while he faced the lone chair a few feet in front of him, which Clare quickly took. It wasn't until Clare picked up his black guitar, positioned in in his lap, and reached up to adjust the microphone stand in front of him that Jude realized – Clare was about to play a song. After giving the mic a few taps, Clare scooted forward in his chair to talk into it.

“This thing on?” he asked.

His voice was coming loudly from a speaker that was set up near by, and everyone replied with positive answers.

“Awesome,” the demon grinned, his echoing voice making Jude smile and shrink in his chair, “So, uh, before we dive into the cake and gifts and stuff, I want to make sure that Jude gets to hear _my_ gift first,” Clare said to the crowd beyond before turning to smile at Jude in front of him, “Jay, I'm not the best song writer in the world... but I wrote this one for you.”

After that, Clare began to strum his guitar with meticulous precision, playing a tune that Jude had never heard before. And it sounded so beautiful. It was light, smooth, slow, and sweet. And after a little bit of melody, Clare leaned forward to sing into the microphone, making his lovely voice echo around the garage.

“ _Those big blue eyes, they stopped me in my tracks,_ ” he sang, “ _and you caught me just before I fell through the cracks... When I met you, my life was stuck in reverse... But now I know, you're my entire universe..._ ”

Jude barely felt hot tears run down his face because he was grinning so much. Clare's voice sounded so good!

“ _Yeah, you came into my life and showed me what I was missin',_ ” Clare serenaded warmly, “ _The joy, the love, the light, and all the kissin'... Without you, I just wouldn't be the same... and now I'm the proud owner of your last name._ ”

Goosebumps riddled Jude's skin and tingles crawled up and down his body as he sat in the chair, listening to Clare's guitar melody grow louder.

“ _My angeeel, my blue jaaay... With you, I know everything's gonna be okay_ ,” Clare sang, “ _I found you at the end of my rainbow... You're my whole world, my better half... You're my hero._ ”

Jude silently sniffled, covering his mouth with one hand as he watched Clare's fingers dance along the guitar strings. The demon in the black suit kept playing the melody, bringing his voice down considerably before singing again and looking back to Jude with a soft expression.

“ _And here we stand at the beginning of our forever... The rest of our lives and memories still to treasure,_ ” he predicted, “ _And don't worry, 'cause I'll be right there to hold your hand... Believe me, I'd rather be, in the arms of Superman..._ ”

Jude giggled and wept behind his hand as he listened to Clare's melody grow louder again.

“ _My angeeel, my blue jaaay... With you, I know everything's gonna be okay_ ,” Clare sang the chorus again, with even more feeling than before, “ _I found you at the end of my rainbow... You're my whole world, my better half... You're my hero... Yeeeah, you're my whole world, my better half...”_ Clare stopped playing the guitar, letting the last note linger as he grabbed the mic and smiled directly at Jude, “ _You're my hero._ ”

Once again, an explosion of cheering and applause came from behind Jude, but he was barely aware of it. Because as soon as Clare finished the song, Jude jolted out of his seat and dashed over to clobber Clare with a gigantic kiss. The angel grabbed both sides of the demon's face and dove in, forcing Clare against the back of his chair so that Jude could lean over and furiously make out with him. It was the only way Jude knew how to properly thank his husband for that amazing, breathtaking song. It was so beautiful! Jude would never be able to get that melody out of his head!

A few sexy whistles came from behind them and it made Jude realize that he was drawing the kiss out for too long. He carefully pulled his mouth away but kept both hands on Clare's face. The blonde demon seemed genuinely and pleasantly shocked by Jude's reaction.

“S – So you liked it?” Clare assumed, wrapping his free arm around Jude's back.

“Clare, I _loved_ it!” Jude corrected, “and I love _you_! That was so beautiful! How did you come up with that tune? And the words?!”

Clare shrugged as his greenish-brown eyes circled Jude's face.

“All I had to do was think of you, Jay. And it just came to me,” he admitted.

Jude gulped, feeling tears swell in his eyes again. The two of them lingered in the same awkward embrace for a moment, just staring at each other and feeling the love stir between them... until uncle Gabe's voice called out.

“Okay, boys! Save some of that for the honeymoon!” the archangel joked, “And come and cut this cake! We're hungry!”

Clare and Jude smiled and shook their heads in unison. As much as they felt isolated in their love, they weren't entirely alone...

“We'd better feed the masses before they get cranky,” Clare mentioned.

“Yeah. Okay,” Jude agreed, “but you have to play that song for me again later.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, like Clare said, I'm not the greatest song writer. (Obviously. Lol) I'm not so good with the word rhyming, but I hope that his song near the end wasn't completely cringe worthy. XD It actually took me lots of time and tweaking to get those lyrics just right. I would explain my version of the tune for you, but it's probably best to just leave it open for personal interpretation. ;) Clare's song for Jude aside, I hope that their vows came across as both believable and heartfelt. I knew Jude would be super nervous about the trip down the aisle, but Clare was – and always will be – able to help him overcome his fears. ;) By the way, has anyone seen 'Joker' yet? (I've seen it twice, and frankly, I'm obsessed with it.) Anyways, Dean's line near the beginning - “If Gabe tells one more knock-knock joke, I'm gonna lose it” – is a slight reference to the 'Joker' movie. The more you know! ;) I really hope that you all enjoyed Jude and Clare's wedding ceremony! :D there will be plenty more fluff to come. Thank you guys so much for coming along on this journey with me. None of this would have been possible without you guys and all of your loving encouragement. I love you all! *hugs* The next chapter – which will be jam packed with stuff – will be out soon! :)


	13. Chapter 13

Despite Meg's abrupt return and Jessica's unexpected pregnancy, Jude and Clare's wedding seemed to have come together and played out perfectly just in the nick of time. Castiel was rendered speechless – and, at times, breathless – by the elegant and beautiful vows his son and Clarence exchanged before the very eyes of God and family who loved them. But Clare's lovely song to Jude was what truly opened the flood gates of Castiel's emotions. The feelings the angel had tried so hard to harbor throughout the entire day broke free in the form of blubbery tears and trembling limbs. His hand clung desperately to Dean's under the white cloth of their table; intertwined and unable to let go. Castiel was fully aware that his only child would one day come of age and rely on someone other than his 'Papa' for aid, but he was not ready for the heartache that accompanied the sudden transition...

After Clare played his loving song, he and Jude cut into their wedding cake and distributed pieces to everyone. Castiel couldn't stomach the sight of food let alone the taste. The angel merely watched and listened to the rest of his family as they indulged in the consumption of the ceremonial treat and shared humorous stories with one another. Castiel found that his sight continued to gravitate toward Jude the entire time, memorizing the pure euphoria and joy on his blushed, freckled face. It had been so long since Cas had witnessed his child in such delight. This day was, perhaps, the happiest that Jude had ever been. And Castiel's only wish was for this unspoiled glee to remain with his child forever.

“Cas.”

At the sound of Dean's voice, Castiel instantly spun his head to look at him. Dean was wearing a hidden smile; the same that he attempted to conceal when there was something humorous on his mind.

“You okay?” the man asked as he rested his hand on the angel's back.

Castiel felt like blurting the word 'no.' Because he was not 'okay.' He was very discouraged, actually. Very emotional and saddened that their son now legally belonged to someone other than them. Luckily, Dean seemed to know all of this without hearing a word out loud. The man pursed his lips and nodded.

“I know,” he hummed quietly, “Me too, babe.”

Castiel blinked toward his husband, realizing that he was not alone in his melancholy state. Dean was feeling the same sense of parental woe. Cas tightened his grip on Dean's hand under the table in an attempt to offer some kind of relief. At least neither one of them had to feel this horrible emotion alone. Castiel and Dean shared a warm stare of understanding with each other before Dean's attention was diverted beyond Castiel. The angel turned around to see what had distracted his husband and found Jude and Clare walking toward them. As the newly weds approached, Castiel noticed that Jude's head was down as if he was avoiding looks from the crowd. Just like he did when he was young.

“Hey, guys,” Clarence began as he pulled Jude to a stop in front of the table, “So, uh, it's time for us to dance. But Sir Blushes-A-Lot over here doesn't want to be stared at,” the demon explained as he came Jude a playful nudge, “We were wondering if you had any ideas?”

The first thought that came to Castiel's mind as he stared at his red faced son was the same idea he had before the wedding began – to forced everyone to look away during Jude and Clarence's dance, so that Jude would feel more comfortable. But before he could openly suggest it, Dean jutted up from the table and buttoned his suit jacket with a smirk.

“Leave it to me,” he graciously offered, sliding around the table to pat Jude's shoulder as he walked by, “I'll take care of it, little man.”

Jude's blush deepened and his blue eyes rolled as Dean stepped away. Clarence laughed quietly, tugging Jude closer by the arm.

“Did he seriously just call you 'little man?'” Clare asked between chuckles.

“Shut up, Clare,” Jude mumbled, biting down a grin.

Castiel felt the urge to inform Clarence that Dean had always referred to Jude as 'little man,' even before Jude was born, but the angel was too curious about Dean's current actions to focus on the children's conversation. Dean had walked over to Sam and Gabriel's table, where Sam was hooking wires up from a speaker to the laptop on the table. The two Winchesters spoke quietly for a moment before Sam nodded, sat down at the table, and began to search for something on his computer. Dean backed away and started toward Castiel, Jude, and Clarence afterward, smiling like a champion. His glowing pride made Castiel extremely curious. What did he just say to Sam? What was he planning to do? And why was he grinning at Castiel like that?

Upon his return to the table, Dean leaned close to whisper something to Jude. Castiel did his best to listen in and hear what was being said, but he couldn't pick up his husband's voice. When Dean pulled away to look at Jude, Jude's smile grew and he nodded, as if he was answering a question Dean had asked him. With their son's agreement, Dean's sight returned to Castiel and he slowly rounded the table to offer out his hand.

“Come on, Cas,” Dean beckoned sweetly, “This is long overdue.”

Castiel was lost. What was Dean talking about? Unable to resist Dean's open hand, Castiel reached up to slide his fingers into the man's grasp. Once he had Cas's hand, Dean tugged him to a standing position – and from a nearby speaker, a sweet melody began to play. A gentle piano was playing a familiar tune. One that Castiel knew by heart.

_Wise men say_...

Castiel gulped, quickly bringing his eyes back to the man in front of him. That was Elvis' voice. That was Castiel and Dean's song. But why was it playing? Dean, wearing the most seductive and romantic expression Castiel had ever seen, pulled the angel close to guide him toward the middle of the room. He placed one of Cas's hands on his own shoulder and held tight to the angel's other, curling his free arm snugly around Cas's back. And then, they were swaying around in slow circles to the music, moving in a tight embrace while everyone watched.

“Dean, what are we doing?” Castiel asked in an urgent whisper, secretly enjoying the sensation of having his front pressed against Dean's, “I thought this dance belonged to Jude and Clarence.”

“It does,” Dean answered.

Using their joined hands, Dean gestured toward the left, where their son and son-in-law were starting to dance as well. The two young men were gradually twirling together near the food table while Dean and Castiel occupied the center of the floor.

“We're sharing it,” Dean explained.

A smile spread across Castiel's face as he studied his son's face, enjoyed the bewitching music, and held his husband firmly in his arms. With his parents claiming almost everyone's attention, Jude was free to dance with his new husband without fear of being stared at. The two couples were sharing the spotlight; orbiting close by each other while Elvis serenaded the room with his lovely deep voice.

The next three minutes of Castiel's life held some of the deepest moments of gratitude, humbleness, and love that he had ever felt. With his chin resting on Dean's shoulder, he could see every familiar face in the room as they spun in slow circles. For a moment, Castiel was surrounded by every soul that he had ever loved. And he could feel the love they felt for him rebounding in earnest. He was in his own home, surrounded by family, listening to his most beloved song, and dancing with the one person who helped make it all possible.

During Elvis' glorious chorus, Castiel dragged his head up from Dean's shoulder in order to see the man's perfect face. Dean's smile had remained in place since they began dancing, smuggling giddiness as his green eyes circled Castiel's face. Looking into Dean's peaceful jade eyes truly felt like coming home. The man braced his forehead to the angel's soon after, hugging Cas warmly as he continued to lead them in small circles. Castiel did not want to interrupt Elvis, but he felt that Dean needed to know how much this dance – this moment, this _lifetime_ – meant to him.

“I – I wish I could explain how I feel, Dean,” Castiel admitted, curling his arm closer around Dean's shoulder, “I wish I could accurately put into words how much I love and adore you, but I – I don't think it's possible.”

Though Castiel was disheartened at the frustrating predicament, Dean's smile widened and he nuzzled closer to Castiel.

“You don't need to, babe. I already know,” the man replied quietly.

The two of them smiled fondly at each other as their song slowly faded toward its end. Their lips carefully connected in a sweet, moist collision; opening to allow their tongues to meet and dance just as slowly as their feet. Time seemed to stand still, allowing them to have a precious piece of their forever to share.

“I love you,” Cas repeated aloud.

“I love you too, Cas,” Dean replied sweetly.

* * *

Clare tried his best to keep Jude upright and walking as he led him down the bunker hallway. The poor guy had gotten a little drunk – okay, maybe _a lot_ drunk – at the reception. Mostly because Clare kept slipping some liquor into his soda. But, to be fair, Clare didn't realize that Jessica was doing the same thing. The two of them had accidentally got Jude pretty plastered by the time they found out they were inadvertent co-conspirators. They couldn't help it, though. Jude was so adorable when he was drunk...

“ _Claaare_ ,” Jude whined in a slur, clinging to the demon's disheveled suit, “ _Hold me_.”

An odd sense of deja vu came over Clare as he shook his head. Hadn't they walked down this same corridor before, in suits while Jude was drunk? Didn't that happen just a few days earlier?

“I _am_ holding you, Jay,” Clare chuckled, having to basically cart Jude down the hall, “We need to go lay down, now.”

“No!” Jude argued, shooting a glare as he stumbled along, “Sex is next! We have to do the sex -”

“ _Jude_ ,” Clare grinned and hissed, trying so hard to hold down more laughter as he looked around to make sure no one else heard them, “Keep it down, will you?”

“No. I'm a grownup. I'm married. I can do what I want,” Jude slurred defiantly, “and I want to sit on your dick and -”

Clare quickly slapped his hand over Jude's open mouth to muffle his next words. He didn't want the angel to say something that could possibly be heard by other people in their family; especially his parents. With drunken Jude somewhat silenced, Clare hastily made a B line for Jude's bedroom. Once they were inside, the demon shut the door behind them and took a long breath. At least now they were finally alone. On the night of their wedding...

Once his mouth was free, Jude used it to sloppily kiss the side of Clare's neck. The sensation tickled a little and made him bite down a laugh. Jude was trying to slide out of his jacket too, but the cufflinks were too tight and tangled the fabric around his arms. He flailed like a penguin for several minutes, which finally made Clare's laugh topple out. It was hilarious to see Jude trying to be sexy when he was absolutely hammered.

“What's so funny?” the blue eyed angel asked.

“Nothing, Jay,” Clare denied respectfully, “It's just... You're so cute when you're drunk.”

“I'm not drunk. I'm married,” Jude corrected, “I got married to my Clarence. To you. Wait, you were there. Don't you remember?”

“Yeah, I remember,” Clare replied, wanting to put Jude's confused mind at ease, “Why don't we go to bed now, huh? You probably need to sleep.”

“No, I don't need sleep. I need your penis. And I need to glow,” Jude explained, tugging at Clare's jacket as he stumbled backward, “Come on, Clare. We have to do it a special way. The glowy way. With my grace out. So that way, we can make -”

Jude's sentence stopped abruptly when he tripped over his own feet and landed flat on his ass. Clare covered his own mouth to prevent his laugh from falling out as he watched the poor drunk angel roll around on the floor. The sight was hilarious, but now Clare was starting to feel a little guilty. Jude was waaay too drunk. Maybe he and Jessica had given him a little too much alcohol. To help his poor husband, Clarence reached down to scoop both arms under Jude before hoisting the guy up into his arms. He quickly walked Jude over to lay him on the bed afterward, where Jude bounced a bit.

“There,” Clare huffed, “Now you're -”

The rest of Clare's words were muted by a forceful, meaningful kiss from Jude. The angel had craned his neck up from the bed to meet his mouth to the demon's. Their tongues swirled around and Clare felt his eyes closing on their own. Damn, Jude really meant business tonight. He was going to have sex with Clare, drunk or not. Jude's arm hooked around Clare's neck and he briefly pulled his mouth away to whisper.

“Make love to me,” the angel nearly begged.

Holy shit. How was Clare supposed to say no to that? Though he was worried about Jude's state of mind, Clare couldn't deny the guy's advances. Their mouths reconnected and Clare began to undo his own suit jacket and vest. One of Jude's hands was tangled in Clare's hair and the other was lazily pulling at his own clothes; trying to get undressed even though his body could barely function. Clare attempted to keep this encounter as gentle as possible. He really wished that he had someway of sobering Jude up before the real fun began –

A few loud, frantic knocks came from the bedroom door, causing Clare and Jude to break their kiss and look behind them.

“Jude? Clare? Are you guys in there?” Dean's deep voice asked.

“Uh, yeah. And we're kinda busy,” Clare called back, making sure Dean could hear the insinuation in his voice.

“Well, I just wanted you to know that Jessica is in labor. Cas and Gabe just took her to the infirmary. She's about to have the baby.”

Clare's jaw nearly hit the floor as he spun to share the same look of shock with his new husband. Jessica was having the baby _now_? Already?! But she had only been pregnant for a few days! How was that even possible?

“Oh shit,” Clare huffed, eying his drunk husband, “We've gotta get you sobered up, Jay...”

* * *

Watching Jane, Rowena, and Papa all line up to do the Macarena at Jude's wedding reception was one of the funniest moments of Jessica's entire life. They all kept time perfectly, doing the moves in exact unison and shaking their butts together. Their dance even made Clare's mom crack a smile, and she didn't seem like much of a smiler. Jessica found it absolutely hilarious, to the point that her large belly hurt from laughing so much. Near the end of the song, she actually had to cradle her big stomach to keep from accidentally peeing all over the place.

“Oh man, I wish Clare and Jude would have stuck around to see that,” Ollie leaned over to say to Jess.

His statement made Jess stop and look around. Were did those newly weds go? Did they bail on the reception early? Jessica glanced over at their vacant seats and noticed Jude's empty glass sitting on the table, and she had to have another giggle. Oops. Jude probably drank too much and Clare had to go lay him down... and do other things...

Even though she wasn't laughing anymore, Jessica still had a strong urge to pee, and it was only getting worse. Hoping to make it to the bathroom before she ruined her silver bridesmaid dress, Jessica quickly grabbed Ollie's shoulder and the back of her chair to hoist herself up. It was crazy how much her legs had to strain now that she was carrying a little extra weight. Ollie's brown eyes glanced up to look at her face, probably seeing if anything was wrong.

“I have to pee,” she explained over the sound of the music, “Don't let anybody eat my cake. I'll be right back.”

After giving her husband the cake protection detail, Jess quickly waddled toward the garage doorway and the hall. The more she walked, the more she could feel pressure growing around her bottom half. At this point, she wasn't sure whether she had to urinate or defecate. All she knew was that she need to get to a bathroom fast – which was hard to do when she could only waddle at a turtle-like pace. She was already out of breath by the time she finally reached the nearest bathroom and closed herself inside. The lone toilet looked inviting. And she could feel Charlie moving around in her belly, making the urge to pee worse.

“Settle down, kid. You're gonna make me pee on the floor,” Jess huffed to her unborn baby.

She held her stomach with one hand and attempted to slide down her own panties with the other, having to wiggle her butt to get them all the way off. When Jess sat on the toilet to pee, she expected to feel the relief of urination – but it never came. In fact, no sound of liquid came either. And the urge to pee – the urge to _push_ – only got more intense.

Jess gulped and looked down at her own body, only able to see her round stomach below. No. She couldn't be in labor yet. It was only Wednesday night. She was supposed to have the baby on Friday... right? Hoping to figure out what the hell was going on, Jessica carefully maneuvered her hand down between her own legs. She felt along her own body, and noticed that she was feeling a lot more wetness than usual. Sticky, gooey wetness. When Jess retracted her hand to look at it, she found mucus and dark red blood painted on her fingers.

“ _Papa!_ ”

The sound was out of Jessie's mouth before she even realized she had shouted it. A few seconds of silence consumed the bathroom, in which Jessica only panted and stared at her own fingertips, before Papa appeared in front of her. He was still smiling – probably from finishing up his Macarena dance with the girls – but it soon vanished when he looked down at Jess and her shaking hand. Jess had never seen her Papa so pale before.

“Holy moose balls,” Papa exhaled, “Is – is it baby time?”

“I don't know,” Jessica gulped, shaking her head, “I feel like I need to push, but -”

“ _It's baby time!_ ” Papa exclaimed, looking equal parts excited and terrified, “Oh my Dad, okay! Okay, okay, okay, okay! Be calm! Stay calm!”

“I am calm!” Jess lied.

“No, no, baby girl, I'm talking to myself!” Papa blurted, briefly spinning around in disorientated circles, “Uh, okay, what's the game plan? Right! We need to get you to the infirmary, baby bunny! _Castiel! Get your ass in here, now!_ ” Papa shouted toward the ceiling before kneeling down near Jess to take her hand, “It's alright, honeydew. Just take deep breaths, okay? Breathe. That's it. Breathe.”

Jessica did as Papa suggested, taking a few gulps of air and letting them out as slowly as possible. Though she knew he was trying to help, Papa's nervous excitement was only making her more anxious. When Uncle Cas popped into the tiny bathroom with them, his unchanging stoic composure was actually able to do the trick and keep her semi-calm.

“What is the problem?” Cas asked, looking between Jess and Papa.

“It's baby time, bro! Lil' Charlie Jane's comin'. We've gotta get the game plan started,” Papa explained in a rush.

Surprise flashed on Cas's face, but he gave a firm nod afterward.

“Very well,” he gulped, “Brother, go and retrieve a gurney from the infirmary. I do not believe we should fly Jessica anywhere while she is in labor.”

“I'm on it!” Papa replied.

The golden archangel pecked a kiss to Jess's forehead and disappeared in a flash, leaving her sitting on the toilet. Uncle Cas bent down close to rest his hand on Jess's shoulder.

“Jessica, please describe what you are feeling,” he asked politely, “As a female, your labor and delivery will be much different from anything I have experienced, but I wish to help you as best I can.”

“P – push,” Jessie answered nervously, “I feel like I need to push really badly.”

Uncle Cas nodded and gently laid his hand against the outside of Jess's glowing stomach. It seemed like he was feeling not only her belly but her grace inside, too. Jess held still, hoping that he would be able to provide some better information. After all, uncle Cassie was the one who had delivered every nephilim in the bunker. He knew about this stuff more than she did...

“The infant has turned upside down,” Cas explained, his blue eyes briefly meeting Jess's, “That is a good sign. It means the baby -”

The bathroom door suddenly swung open, making Jessica flinch on the toilet. Papa frantically burst back inside, leaving a fresh gurney in the hall.

“Okay. Uber's here,” he joked, gesturing to the gurney before stepping over to offer both hands to Jess, “Bunny, can you stand up?”

“I – I don't know. I'm afraid she'll fall out if I try,” Jess admitted.

“Jessica, it is going to take great effort to extract your baby. Trust me, nothing will 'fall out'.”

Uncle Cas's words were probably meant to help Jess feel better, but they only ended up giving her utter terror. Great effort? What the hell did that mean?! Jess's tremble returned as she realized she was going to have to stand back up. With both hands braced around her large belly and Papa and Cas assisting her, Jess was eventually able to rock herself back up onto her feet. It felt like a huge pulse squeezed her entire uterus in the process, shooting pain to her back and lower half.

“ _Ow_ ,” Jess groaned, “Ah, it's getting worse!”

“To the gurney. Quickly,” Cas instructed calmly.

Jess was able to make it to the hospital bed on wheels just in time to fall onto it. Pain was coming in waves, now; the tight pulses slowly getting closer together. And Jess couldn't help but think that this was happening way too fast. She wasn't ready to feel this kind of pain! She wasn't ready to have her baby yet! _She wasn't ready to be a mom_!

“P – Papa, I'm not ready,” Jess squeaked, reaching out to cling to the front of his suit.

“It's okay, Jessie rabbit. No one is ever ready,” Papa explained as he helped raise her legs onto the bed, “That's just the way life goes, sweetheart.”

Jessica took a few deep breaths as she looked to her Papa. He was so right. Jessica was never really ready for anything in her life; not birthdays, not weddings, not even her first child. But it was nice to know she wasn't the only one...

“We must take her to the infirmary,” Cas suggested, already pushing the gurney down the hall, “That is where all the medical supplies are.”

“Oliver,” Jessica realized out loud, “Pop, you have to go tell Ollie!”

“I'm on it!” Papa answered again.

The blonde archangel disappeared while the dark-haired angel turned the gurney down a different corridor. It was just Cas and Jessica once again, and uncle Cas looked highly concerned.

“Jessica, I'm unsure if having anyone else in the room during the delivery is safe,” he admitted, “If the area is too crowded -”

“ _Ahh!_ ”

Jess couldn't help but groan out loud and clutch both sides of the gurney. An extremely tight pulse had echoed through her body and it felt like being squeezed from the inside. Ow, that hurt like a bitch! At the sound of Jess's outburst, uncle Cas's eyes widened and he started running; quickly guiding the gurney straight ahead toward the infirmary. The back of the gurney busted the double doors open and Jess suddenly found herself in the tiled bunker hospital room. She needed to push. She _had_ to push. She couldn't wait any longer!

“Cas, I have to push!” Jess shouted, feeling sweat run down her face.

“Alright, Jessica,” Cas answered as he rushed to pull the curtains closed around Jessica's bed, “Do not strain yourself too hard, but go ahead and -”

When Cas lifted up the end of Jessica's dress to look down at the glowing delivery sight, his sentence stopped and he suddenly looked like a ghost. The sight of his horror made Jessica scared.

“Wh – what?!” she asked.

Before Cas could answer, Papa flew back into the room – with Ollie standing next to him. The sight of her familiar husband gave Jessica an overwhelming sense of relief. Tears swelled in her eyes as she reached both hands for him.

“Ollie!” she cried, “I – I'm scared!”

Oliver immediately leaned over the gurney to wrap his arms around Jess and she felt slightly more at ease.

“Me too,” he confessed in a high pitched voice, “But I won't leave you. It's okay.”

At the foot of the gurney, Cas was gesturing to Jessica's lower half and giving Papa a terrified look.

“There is a – a wide, disturbing wound on her body,” the angel breathed.

Papa gave Cas a half glare and smacked his shoulder.

“That's her vagina, you idiot! It's supposed to look like that!” Papa growled.

“But it's... it's opening up. Like the mouth of a ravenous monster,” Cas gulped.

“Because she's having a baby!” Papa shouted in disgust, “What the hell is wrong with you, Cas?! Stop gawking and start delivering!”

“ _Ahhh!_ ”

Another huge contraction made Jessica's muscles seize up. There was no way she could ignore the sensation to push, now. Her uterus was practically pushing for her; forcing her to bear down against her will. The wave of pain made her grip the gurney and glare down at the arguing men near her ankles.

“ _Just catch the damn baby_!” Jessica shouted angrily.

The intense rage in her voice must have been enough to snap Cas and Pop into gear. They both scrambled around the gurney for towels and blankets, padding the end of the bed. In the meantime, Jessica caught sight of two more people entering the room and rushing to her side.

“Guapa!” Jane sang, running over to kiss Jess's face and wipe the sweat from her forehead, “It is alright. Take large breaths, Jessica.”

“Yer havin' a baby today, lass!” Rowena sang on the other side, reaching out to pat her arm.

“How did you people get in here? I told you to wait outside!” Papa exclaimed.

Another of Jessica's loud groans filled the room, interrupting the conversations so that she could push some more. Jessica could almost feel Charlie's large head coming out of her body. But it felt stuck, like it was blocked by something. The more Jess pushed, the less Charlie moved. With a loud shout of pain, Jessica panted and looked to the angels at the bottom of the bed.

“Sh – she's stuck,” Jess huffed, “S – something's wrong.”

Papa and Cas both rushed to inspect Jess's lower half, where the golden shine of her grace illuminated both of their faces. After a moment, they shared a serious look with each other.

“Her grace,” Cas said.

“We have to cut it open?” Papa breathed in horror.

“That is where the infant has been growing. We must open it to release her,” Cas answered with a nod.

“C – cut?” Ollie squeaked.

“You have to cut Jessica?” Jane asked.

“Oi, isn't there another way?” Rowena hissed.

“No. It is the only way,” Cas stated boldly, looking around at everyone, “All of you need to get out of this room. Nephilim grace is dangerous, and we must operate now.”

At first, Jane and Rowena didn't move. They only stood there and clung to Jess's shoulders until Papa gave them a weary look.

“You heard the man. Go,” Papa instructed, “I'll come back and get you when the baby's here.”

Though they were hesitant to leave, Jane and Rowena kissed each side Of Jess's head at the same time.

“We love you, Jessica,” Jane whispered.

“Everything will be alright, cherub. We will see you after the baby arrives,” Rowena hummed.

Both ladies quickly walked back around the curtain and out of the room – but Oliver didn't move. He stayed right next to Jess's side, and it warranted some disapproving looks from Cas and Papa. The very thought of Oliver having to leave pissed Jessica off even more than she already was.

“Ollie stays,” she barked, gripping both sides of the gurney as she held back tears of pain, “Now get Charlie out.”

Uncle Cas brought forth the shiny angel blade from his sleeve and the glimmering metal made Papa cringe. He shrank away and shook his head.

“I can't watch you hurt her,” he breathed out loud, inching toward the head of Jess's bed to wrap an arm around her back and give her a kiss, “Be gentle, Castiel.”

“Of course,” Cas replied, his eyes dropping to Jess, “This... will be painful.”

Jessica nodded timidly. It couldn't be any more painful than what she was feeling right now, could it? With both hands gripping the rails of the gurney, Jess bent her legs back and waited; looking up at the ceiling so that she wouldn't have to see the blade get close to her body. It wasn't long before a sharp, agonizing pain shot through her – and she found out she was _wrong_. The pain _was_ worse than what she had been feeling. So much worse. Another scream erupted from her throat, burning her vocal cords in the process. Shit, that was so painful! When was it going to end?!

“Push, Jessica!” she heard Cas's voice.

Even though she was experiencing the worst pain of her entire life, Jessica managed to find the strength to push. She clenched her jaw shut and bared down with all she had; squeezing all her muscles until she couldn't stand it any longer. The lack of oxygen made her head feel light, so she released the pressure and fell back against the pillow to breathe hard, hoping that she wouldn't pass out. It seemed like the pain was finally going away.

And then, a tiny little ' _weh_ ' echoed around the tiled room.

Through the blur of sweat and tears, Jessica blinked and shakily raised her head back up to look down. The glow from her grace was dim and her stomach was much flatter – but it allowed her to see the tiny wiggling baby in Cas's arms. She was crying – screaming, actually – and breathing over and over with her small lungs. Her tiny little arms and legs were flailing, as if she was angry and wanted everyone to know it. But even from the first look Jessica had of her daughter, she knew how absolutely beautiful and perfect she was. Jess and Oliver had made the most perfect little girl there had ever been. In that moment, Jessica knew that Charlie Jane Winchester was going to change the world...

Cradling the baby with one hand, uncle Cas used his free hand to sever the umbilical cord with the bloody angel blade. And once the wailing infant was free, Cas stepped around the gurney to lay her against Jessica's chest. The second she received her baby girl into her arms, Jessica couldn't stop her own tears from flowing. Charlie was so small! But so loud. How could such a tiny thing make so much noise?

“It – it's alright, Charlie,” Jessica hummed, even though she could barely speak for crying, “Mommy's here.”

The sound of Jess's voice seemed to calm the baby a little bit. Her arms and legs stopped waving around so much and she rolled in closer to Jess's chest. A large white blanket suddenly covered her up and Jess raised her head to see Ollie putting the warm fabric on them with a tear-stained smile.

“Daddy's here, too,” he hummed, sniffling a bit, “We love you so much.”

Jess's tears picked up speed as she reached a hand up to tug Ollie closer. The three of them – their little family – paused to share the moment together. Charlie's life had just started. There were so many things they would get to see her do and help her learn. She was brand new; a blank canvas! And Jessica and Ollie would get to keep her for the rest of their lives!

A pair of arms came over to wrap around Jess, Ollie, and the wiggling baby all at once. But Jess didn't need to look up to know who it was.

“And I love _all_ of you!” Papa sobbed, “You're all my babies! I'm so proud!”

Though her body was still hurting a little, Jess felt herself giggling. All of the raw pain she just went through was well worth it to be able to have this moment. Inside her arms, Charlie made gurgly noises and blinked up at her with wet eyes.

“This is called a hug, honey,” Jess explained, delicately wiping some of the wetness away from her baby's forehead, “Better get used to them, because you're gonna get plenty.”

* * *

Dean knew that Jude and Clare were probably about to 'settle in' for their first night as a married couple, so after he told the boys about Jessica being in labor, he went ahead and joined everyone else at the doors of the infirmary in the lower part of the bunker. Sammy was already pacing back and forth in the hall, looking like a nervous wreck while Bobby attempted to comfort him. Michael and Adam were there too, asking Crowley questions about the nephilim birthing process. Even Meg was waiting to hear from inside. The female demon was slouched against the wall, casually listening to all the commotion. Almost as soon as Dean approached, Rowena and Jane came walking back out. Sam instantly grabbed Jane by the arms and turned her toward him.

“What happened? Is she okay? Did she have the baby? What's going on in there?” Sam asked in a blur.

“Calm down, boy,” Rowena answered first, patting his long arm, “Yer sweet girl is just fine.”

“They told us we could not be there for the grace,” Jane attempted to explain.

“Grace?” Adam spoke up, sounding intrigued.

“Angel grace will burn you to a crisp if you get too close, lad. And nephilim grace is even more powerful,” Crowley informed.

“What's happenin'? Somebody get hurt?”

Dean turned around at the sound of his son's voice. Jude – who was standing rather wobbly on his feet – was accompanied by Clare down the hall to the rest of the waiting group. One look at his son let Dean know that the kid was drunk off his ass. Dean turned to give Clare a flat look. Really? They had only been married for a few hours and Jude was already a mess? Clare only gulped and moved his sight toward everyone else.

“Hey. My husband is drunk. Can any of you snap him out of it before the baby gets here?” Clare requested bluntly.

“Baby? What baby? The only baby I see is you, Clare-bear,” Jude slurred, snuggling up to the demon.

Without a word, Michael stepped over and tapped two fingers to Jude's forehead. The archangel's silvery grace shined for a second before releasing Jude, leaving him completely sober. Jude stood up a little straighter and coughed, blinking as he looked around at all the faces staring back at him.

“What?” he asked, turning his red face to Clare, “What happened?”

Before Clare could answer, the sound of Jessica's muffled shriek came from the infirmary. Everyone's attention returned to the doors, where bright golden light shined around the frame. Dean had heard – countless times – Cas retell the story of Jude's birth and how the angel had to slice open his own grace to let Jude out. And Dean assumed that was what was happening now. Jessica's grace was being opened up so that she could deliver her baby. And, damn, it sounded painful...

“I need to get in there!” Sam shouted.

Dean instantly lunged to grab his little brother to prevent him from storming in. Sammy couldn't go in there! Jess's grace could burn him alive!

“No, Sam. Stop it. You can't. You know that,” Dean barked, “Gabriel will come out and get us when everything is safe.”

“She's my daughter, Dean! And she's in pain!” Sam argued.

“She's givin' _birth_ , Sam. Birth is painful fer everyone,” Rowena added as plainly as possible.

“It's alright, boy. Just calm down. Gabe and Cas won't let nothin' happen to her,” Bobby comforted.

Though everyone was trying their best to console Sammy, the kid still looked as anxious as he did the day Jessica herself was born. A few minutes went by in which everyone watched the door and waited for some news to come from inside. Dean could hear Adam, Jude, and Jane whispering behind him, mentioning their favorite parts from the wedding.

It wasn't long before the infirmary door finally opened up. Dean was relieved to see his own husband's familiar face peek out into the hallway. Cas gulped before sliding all the way out to greet everyone – and Dean instantly realized how pale he was. Cas was as white as a sheet. And his trench coat and nice wedding suit were both covered in specks and smudges of blood. Holy shit, was that _Jessica's_ blood? Was she okay? Why did Cas look so afraid?

“Cas? Is she okay?” Sam squeaked, voice full of fear.

Cas swallowed and looked to the crowd before raising his bloodstained hands.

“The newborn weighs seven pounds, two ounces. She is perfectly healthy. Mother and child are both fine,” Cas announced.

Sighs of relief and subtle cheering came from various people in the hall. After hearing the good news, Sam all but bolted into the infirmary, immediately followed by Jane and Rowena. Dean was glad that his niece and her baby were both okay, but he was honestly a little confused. If the birth had gone smoothly, why did Cas look so upset?

“Baby, what's wrong?” Dean stepped close to ask.

At first, Cas swallowed and shook his head, as if he couldn't bring himself to speak. But then, his blue eyes met Dean's stare and he exhaled.

“Dean,” Cas began, voice low, “Vaginas are terrifying...”

A smile burst across Dean's face, though he quickly tried to hide it. Oh, boy. Cas had probably seen some traumatizing shit in that infirmary. But honestly, Dean couldn't have been more relieved to learn that his husband disliked female genitalia. From this moment on, Dean never had to worry about Cas's sexuality.

“Yeah,” Dean nodded, opening his arms, “C'mere, babe. Bring it in.”

Cas instantly stepped forward to lean into Dean's hug, wrapping both arms around Dean's back as Dean did the same to his. Dean smiled fondly toward the infirmary doors as he held his angelic husband in his arms.

“Don't worry, Cas. You won't have to look at one ever again,” Dean promised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Castiel, right? ;D I, like Jessica, own a vagina. But unlike Jessica, I have never pushed a full sized baby out of it. So if anything in this chapter seems unrealistic, it's because I have yet to birth a child. (Maybe one day though, right? Lol) ;D I know Jess's pregnancy went by super fast, but I figured her powerful grace would cook a baby up in even less time than Gabe's. ;) And Charlie Jane is here! Yay! :D I hope that Jude and Clare's first dance wasn't too overshadowed by Dean and Cas. I just figured that Jude wouldn't mind sharing the spotlight a little, and Dean and Cas never had a first dance, and Dean really wanted to play Elvis for Cas, and – yeah. Excuses, excuses. XD I promise that Jude and Clare are going to get a real first night together soon. Their Honeymoon is going to be absolutely amazing. :D And I added another chapter to the end of this part, so that I could cram in all the fluff that I wanted to include. So there are two whole chapters left to go! :D I hope you guys are still enjoying the story! Thank you so much – seriously, so much! – for reading this super long fic! I really hope that it continues to make you smile, some hundred chapters in. XD I love you guys! The next chapter will be out soon! :D


	14. Chapter 14

Oliver didn't fully embrace or comprehend the fact that he was going to be a father until he saw his little girl's face for the first time.

Charlie was a very tiny baby; barely big enough to fill Jessica's slender arms. And she was really pink, like a bright wet flamingo. But as bizarre and tear-inducing as the birth had been, Ollie found that once he looked at Charlie, he couldn't take his eyes off her. Even when other people came into the room and she was gently being passed around, his sight still followed her; watching her move from one set of loving arms to the next. She was so small and fragile, but had such epic importance. It blew Oliver's mind to think that only a week earlier, he didn't even consider having children. And now, his newborn daughter occupied his acute attention at all times.

The baby fell asleep just as she finally made it into Oliver's mother's arms. Ollie beamed with pride as he watched his mom cuddle and kiss Charlie. Of course, his mom was crying and smiling the whole time. Along with everyone else.

“Oh... Mi nieta,” Mom hummed, sniffling as she hugged Charlie close to her wet face, “You are so precious.”

Ollie's smile widened. The sweet interaction between his mom and daughter gave him the funniest feeling. In that moment, Oliver knew – he was no longer the center of his mom's world. Charlie was officially Jane's favorite, and Ollie was totally cool with it. Heck, Charlie was his favorite, too. And judging from the reactions in the room, she was _everyone's_ favorite. Gabriel loomed close over Mom's shoulder, admiring the baby with her for several minutes.

“Isn't she the cutest?” the archangel sang.

“Si. Charlie is beautiful,” Mom replied, raising her wet eyes to smile at Jessica, “Guapa, you did an amazing job.”

For the first time since his daughter had come into the world, Oliver turned his attention to his wife on the bed in front of him. Jessica was pale and sweaty, looking as if she had just run a five-hour long marathon, but there was a peaceful expression on her face.

“Thanks, Jane,” Jess mumbled.

Oliver gulped, feeling a sudden twinge of guilt manifest in his gut. Wow, Jess had really been through a lot, hadn't she? Not only did she have to carry Charlie in her body for several days, but she also had to push the baby out without medication. _And_ had her grace cut in the process. Oliver would not have been able to go through that kind of pain and still retain a smile. Jessica was such a strong woman. Man, how did an absolute goddess like her end up with a daft ginger like him? He was the luckiest guy in the world. With his head down in shame, Oliver reached out to curl his fingers around Jess's hand, gaining her attention. What could he possibly say to her? To the badass mother of his child?

“You are... amazing, Jess,” Ollie mumbled, low enough so that the rest of the crowd couldn't hear him, “Seriously. You handled that like a pro... I still can't believe that out of all the little boys on the playground, you picked me.”

The sound of Jessica's faint giggle made his stomach tingle, just like it did when they were kids. Her hand, though it was weak, tightened around his.

“Technically, you picked me,” Jess replied, her lovely eyes blinking slowly up at him above her smile, “You invaded my dreams months before we ever met.”

Oliver thought that was a weird statement. He knew she had premonition dreams sometimes, but were they really that specific? Though he was tempted to ask about it, the sound of footsteps distracted him. Jude and Clarence – still dressed in most of their wedding attire and holding hands – rounded the curtain and stopped to search the crowd. Both of them caught sight of the baby in Jane's arms at the same time, faces filling with grins.

“There she is,” Clare smiled, tugging on Jude's hand, “Look, Jay. There's the baby.”

“I see her,” Jude whispered back, though he was hunkering bashfully behind Clare's shoulder.

Oliver watched his two best friends admire his daughter, enjoying their enthusiastic reactions. Wow, Clare seemed genuinely excited to see Charlie. Maybe he had been waiting to see her just as much as everyone else. The demon's eyes eventually found their way to Jessica and Oliver, where he gave them a proud nod.

“She looks amazing, you guys,” Clare complimented fondly.

“Thanks, Clare,” Jess hummed, “Do you want to hold her?”

From the sheer amount of joy on Clare's face, Jessica might as well have given him a new guitar or something. The demon was suddenly animated; grinning, nodding, and giggling like an excited child.

“Hell yeah I do!” he answered.

Though Mom seemed a little hesitant to relinquish her new granddaughter to someone else, she sighed and got up from her chair to offer the seat to Clare. Clarence kissed the back of Jude's hand before letting it go and dashing over to take the seat. He held both arms up afterward, prepared to receive the baby – possibly the first one he had ever seen up close – into his hands.

“Be careful, Lamb. She's fragile,” Rowena encouraged, stepping close to stand near him.

“I will,” Clare whispered.

Mom gently twisted the bundled up baby around in her grasp before holding her out to Clare. Ollie was surprised to see how delicate Clarence could be. He expected the demon to be a little rough, because of his background and all. But Clare handled Charlie like a porcelain teacup, cradling her back and neck as he brought her softly against his chest. The demon bit his bottom lip as he looked down at her, probably to hold in laughter or heavy breaths so that he wouldn't wake her up. It wasn't long before he raised his head to look at Jess and Ollie with a bright smile.

“She looks like a baby doll, man,” he explained in a giddy whisper before grinning back down at her again to say, “Hi, C.J. I'm your uncle, Clare. I heard you like Motown music.”

On the bed, Jessica giggled and curled toward Oliver, cuddling his arm as they watched their brother-in-law speak to their daughter. Ollie was glad to see Clare getting along with Charlie, but even more happy to see the joy on his wife's face. After all the pain she had to endure, Jessica had earned this warm moment of bonding with their family.

Oliver took a second to look around the room and admire all the smiling faces – until he came to Jude's nearby. Despite all of the pride and awe Oliver and Jess felt, Jude's smile was currently the brightest. His blue eyes were wide and soaking in the sight of Clarence with a baby in his arms, while his pearly grin was on full display. Ollie couldn't remember the last time he saw Jude so happy. Other than the end of the wedding, that is.

“Cute, right?” Ollie leaned over to whisper to his best friend.

“Y – yeah,” Jude replied in a hushed tone, “The cutest thing I've ever seen.”

“Clare's gonna be a pretty cool uncle,” Ollie mused.

Jude gulped, though his smile never wavered.

“Pretty cool _dad_...” the angel's voice trailed off blissfully.

Ollie's eyes narrowed. Dad? Was Jude thinking about having kids with Clare, too? That actually sounded like a perfect plan, because Charlie was going to need some playmates. Other than Dickie, of course.

“Uh oh,” Clare mumbled loudly from the chair, looking up to Jess with a frown, “Looks like she's about to have one of those gingersnaps.”

The sound of tiny grunts and whines came from the moving blanket in Clare's arms. Ollie saw a pair of tiny hands waving and grasping from inside the fabric, gaining momentum as Clare carefully stood up from the chair to walk over to the bed. Jess already had her arms out, ready to comfort Charlie before the baby got too stressed out. Ollie's mom and Gabriel were both instantly on edge.

“Is she okay? What's wrong? What does she need?” Gabe asked in a blur.

“Do you need a diaper, Jess? I can get one for you,” Mom offered.

“N – no, it's okay,” Jess assured as she gently bounced Charlie in her arms, “I think she just needs to relax for a while. Do you guys mind giving us some time alone?”

“That's a good idea,” Dean loudly agreed from the corner, standing up to gesture toward the infirmary door, “Guys, lets all get out of here and give the new parents some peace and quiet. We've gotta clean up the library and the garage anyway. Come on. Let's go.”

The Winchesters all seemed bummed about having to leave the infirmary, especially Jess and Ollie's parents. Grumbles and eye rolls accompanied the large group as it migrated toward the door. Of course, Sam, Gabe, and Mom lingered back to give Jess and the baby some kisses.

“Honeydew, if you need anything, all you have to do is pray and I'll come right back,” Gabe reminded.

“I know, Pop,” Jess said as she tried to sooth Charlie.

“Jess, I'm so proud of you,” Sam mentioned, curling some of her messy blonde hair behind her ear so he could kiss her forehead.

“Thanks, Dad,” she replied.

“I will come back in a few hours,” Ollie's mom promised with a wave, “I love you all!”

“Love you too, Mom,” Ollie replied.

When the last person left out of the tiled hospital room, Ollie could hear the tiny grunts and gurgles coming from the baby. Jess hummed a quiet ' _shhh_ ' to Charlie as she gently rocked back and forth on the bed. Oliver felt as useless as a white crayon. What could he do to help? Should he go grab a toy? Or bottle or something?

“What can I do, Jess?” he asked.

Once Charlie had settled down a bit, Jessica looked up at him with a grimace.

“Could you take her for a little bit, Ollie? My grace is still aching,” she admitted.

Oliver's eyes dropped down to the swaddled baby in his wife's arms and he swallowed a huge gulp. This was it. This was the first time he was ever going to hold his child... Though his hands were shaking a little, he forced himself to hold them out steady toward Jess. She shifted the baby around before placing her into Ollie's hands – and he instantly felt unqualified. He should not be holding a living thing that small. He wouldn't be able to handle the responsibility of taking care of such a precious thing! He was going to mess it up, just like he messed up everything else! He never even finished college, for crying out loud! How was he supposed to care for an infant?!

Though he was having a silent mental breakdown, Oliver tried his best to hold Charlie properly. He cradled her to his chest, where his heart was beating rapidly, and stared down at her beautiful little face. He still couldn't believe that he was looking at his _daughter_ ; someone who shared both his and his soul mate's DNA. The next eighteen years of her life were in Oliver's hands. And, honestly, the idea freaked Oliver out. What if he ended up being a horrible father? What if he gave her emotional trauma, just like his own dad gave him? Oliver didn't want to mess this up! He couldn't!

“Ollie?”

At the sound of Jess's concerned voice, Oliver snapped his head up. She was staring worriedly at him with her head tilted. It wasn't until he saw Jess's expression that he realized he could hear his own breathing. He was practically panting; on the verge of severe panic.

“What?” Jess prompted.

Oliver had always been a shitty liar. And even before they were an official couple, Jessica could always see through Ollie's terrible mask anyway, so he knew he couldn't lie to her. But he was also afraid to tell her the truth. What if she got mad at him? Though he was tempted to keep it inside, Oliver exhaled and shook his head.

“I – I'm afraid I'm going to be a bad father,” he admitted.

Oliver felt his own voice shake as he spoke and it only made him feel worse. He expected to hear Jessica comfort him with words of reassurance – but instead, she started laughing. She giggled humorously as if Oliver had told a joke, and Ollie was honestly confused. What was so funny about that? He was being serious!

“I'm serious,” he said, holding Charlie closer so that he could sit on the edge of Jess's bed and look her in the eye, “I really am afraid.”

Jess calmed her laughter by covering her mouth and nodding. The humor never left her face, though. The smile stayed on her lips when she finally raised both hands in defense and lowered her head.

“I – I know. I'm sorry,” she began, “It's just... The idea of you being a bad father? It's hilarious.”

“What?” Ollie said, lost, “Why?”

Jess paused to smile at him for a second before shifting around on the bed to reach out for his hand. She tugged one away from Charlie, leaving the baby lodged in Oliver's other arm. Once she was holding Ollie's hand, Jess stared straight ahead into his eyes.

“Because I've already seen you as a dad. And trust me, Oliver, you are _amazing_ ,” she answered.

Though he was glad to hear that one of his worst fears would never come true, Oliver was still kind of confused. What did Jessica mean she had already seen it? Did she have more premonitions about their future together?

“You've already seen it?” Oliver prompted.

Jessica's smile grew as she nodded.

“A few pieces, here and there,” she explained, fiddling with his fingers as she spoke, “I've seen you read bedtime stories. You use those funny voices, like Papa did when we were kids. I've seen you building pillow forts in the house – and a real fort outside, made out of real wood and everything. You even added a pole with a pirate flag.”

Oliver chuckled, feeling hot moisture swell in his eyes. He was really going to do that? He had always wanted to build a real fort...

“And when we have parties, all of the neighborhood kids come over. Because you bounce on the trampoline with them, and do giant cannonballs in the pool,” Jess went on with another giggle, “I've seen you ride bikes, do finger paintings, wrestle, dance, dress up as Santa Claus... Ollie, you have nothing to worry about. Our kids are going to have the best dad in the world.”

While Oliver was touched by Jess's compliment, a single word from her last sentence captured his attention. From the moment he heard it, he was unaware of anything else.

“K – _kids_?” he repeated breathlessly, “As... as in, more than one?”

Jessica's smile dimmed, as if she realized she had accidentally said too much. But after a second, she shrugged it off and nodded, tightening her hand around his. For a second, Oliver felt the same type of shock he experienced back in Paris, when he learned that Jessica was pregnant. Not only was he now a dad, but he was going to be a dad to _multiple_ children! How many?! What were they?! How did Jessica know all of this?!

“How many?” Ollie asked breathlessly.

Jessica took a deep breath and briefly looked down at their joined hands.

“I don't think I should tell you. I don't want to ruin the surprise,” she mumbled, smiling again as she nodded toward the baby in his arms, “Charlie is our first, and I think we should focus on her. They grow up fast and I don't want to miss a single second.”

The smile finally returned at full power to Oliver's face as he looked down at the precious baby in his arms. Jessica was right. Charlie wasn't going to be this tiny forever. And now that he knew he was going to be an okay dad, Ollie wasn't afraid anymore. In fact, he was looking forward to building that fort with his kids, and reading them bedtime stories. Feeling a rush of peace and joy, Oliver hoisted his baby girl closer to his face so that he could kiss her chubby cheek while she slept.

“You hear that, Charlie?” he whispered, “We're gonna get into all sorts of trouble.”

* * *

Despite getting up early to practice his vows, repeating them out loud at his wedding, harnessing his nerves long enough to play his song for Jude, and then rushing to the infirmary just in time to meet his new niece, Clarence was a lot less tired than he thought he would be. Cleaning up the reception tables in the garage felt less like a chore and more like fun, since the music was still playing. Jude, on the other hand, kept yawning the whole time he stacked chairs and folded table cloths. The poor guy was trying his best to help, but Clare could tell the day had exhausted Jude's nerves.

“Jay, you're tired. Go to bed, man,” Clare eventually suggested, stepping over to take the broom out of his husband's hand, “I'll come and join you in a few minutes, okay?”

Jude sighed but handed over the broom, looking dead on his feet.

“You promise?” he asked.

Clare smirked and leaned forward to briefly meet their lips for the millionth time that day. The taste was just as sweet as the first time.

“Promise,” the demon winked afterward, “Now go get some rest. We've got a big day tomorrow.”

With another yawn, Jude turned on his heel and headed back out of the garage. Clare watched him go, secretly enjoying the sight of him walking away. Damn. Did Jude really belong to Clare, now? Would he really get to stare at Jude's ass whenever he felt like it? Kiss him whenever he felt like it? Make love to him and sing to him whenever he felt like it? The notion still made his stomach tingle. This whole married business came with so many perks...

With Bobby, Crowley, and Rowena's help, the garage was clean in no time. While Clare's parental group gave the place some finishing touches, Clare decided to take what was left of his wedding cake to the kitchen. It was just a short walk from the garage, and the trip allowed him to see Dean and Sam wishing a few farewells to Michael and Adam in the hallway. The archangel and the youngest Winchester brother were each holding some luggage, looking like they were prepared to leave. Clare caught a small bit of their conversation as he lingered in the kitchen.

“You sure you have to head out?” Dean asked.

“Yeah. I've got to work in the morning. The Emergency Room doesn't wait for anyone,” Adam grumbled, “But thanks again for letting us stay. This was one of the best vacations I've ever had. Newborn baby and all.”

All four of them chuckled a little, which made Clare smile and shake his head. Winchesters. Even their laughs sounded the same.

“You need to get out more,” Sam joked, “But seriously, we're glad you guys could come.”

“As are we,” Michael replied, “We should plan another meeting soon. Perhaps a group hunt of some sort.”

“Winchester road trip? Sounds like fun,” Dean added, “You guys take it easy. And let us know if you need anything.”

“Same to you. 'Night, guys,” Adam said.

Clare listened to all four of them for a moment, admiring how warm and full of care their voices were as they said goodbye. A part of Jude's vows suddenly popped back into Clare's head. ' _You never have to worry about being without a family or a home, Clare, because I will make sure you have both forever._ ' Shit. That wasn't just Jude's family anymore. It was _Clare's_ , too. Those were _his_ parents and uncles talking in the hallway. The idea brought a new smirk to Clare's mouth. It was crazy how Jude could put a smile on his face without even being in the room.

After dropping off the cake in the kitchen, Clare decided it was about time to crawl into bed with his husband. He had memorized the series of turns he had to take to get from the kitchen to Jude's room, and walked it quickly without even having to look up. But as he drew close to the hall of bedroom doors, he heard a couple more voices and slowed down to listen. He knew those voices, too. Meg and Cas were talking somewhere close by, and Clare's curiosity forced him to pause and listen just around the corner.

“ - but I don't know. I just, I don't want him to get upset with me,” Meg mumbled in worry.

“He will not be upset with you, Meg. He only wants what is best for you, just as he does for everyone else in his family,” Cas replied comfortingly.

Meg scoffed, as if she thought what Cas said was funny.

“Family?” she repeated, “Cas, I already told you, I'm not -”

“Yes. You are,” Cas instantly interrupted, “You are his mother, Meg. And he will understand. Probably better than anyone. He, too, knows what it is like to rely on others.”

Clare gulped as he blinked toward the gray tile. The two of them were obviously mentioning him, but what the hell were they talking about? He lingered around the corner for a few more seconds, hoping to figure it out. Meg audibly sighed, sounding frustrated.

“I don't know. Maybe I should just go,” she mumbled.

A hint of panic flashed in Clare's chest. Go? Where was Meg going? Though he knew he probably should have remained stealthy to hear the answer, Clare finally ventured the rest of the way down the hall and rounded the corner. Straight ahead, lingering near the end of the corridor, Meg and Cas were facing each other. When Clare approached, their concerned faces brightened with smiles.

“Hello, Clarence,” Cas said first, raising his head high, “How are you?”

“Well, I just married your son. So I'm pretty much perfect,” Clare admitted with a wink before turning his attention to Meg, “Hey, Mom. What's up?”

Clare figured that calling her 'Mom' would remind her of how important she was to him and maybe convince her not to leave. But he could already tell that she was set on going. Her dark eyes blinked up at him woefully above her subtle smile.

“Hey, kid,” she said as she stuffed both hands into her jacket pockets, “Listen, uh... I – I made a call last night. To... Midwest.”

She paused to take in Clare's reaction to her statement as if it was really important, but Clare was lost.

“Midwest?” he asked.

“It is a rehabilitation center in Kansas City,” Cas explained quietly.

Suddenly, Meg's worried statements and shy behavior made perfect sense. Maybe she wasn't worried about telling Clare goodbye, but more worried about his reaction to finding out that she was checking herself into rehab. Clare honestly thought it was a little unnecessary, considering she had been clean for a few months. But from the look on her face, Clare could tell that she was doing this for more than just staying clean. Maybe she thought they could give her some help on the other stuff, too; traumatic memories and all that. The momentary silence in which Clare thought all of this must have seemed like a bad sign to Meg, because a saddened expression came over her face.

“I swear I'm not leaving you again,” she blurted quickly, nervously shaking her head, “I know it sounds like I'm gonna leave and never come back, but I promise it's just for a few weeks, and I waited all day to tell you about it because I didn't want to ruin your wedding day -”

“No,” Clare interrupted, holding his hands up to stop her with a smile, “You haven't ruined anything. And I know you're not leaving again. As a matter of fact, I'm _proud_ of you, Mom.”

Meg obviously wasn't expecting the compliment, because the moment Clare said it, her dark eyes filled with tears. Her bottom lip quivered a little – which tugged at Clare's heart – and she gulped awkwardly as she stuffed her hand back into her pocket.

“Wh – what?” she breathed.

“I'm proud of you,” Clare repeated, reaching up to gently clutch her shoulder, “It takes major balls to admit when you need help. I couldn't do it for a long time, until Jude came along. But you did it on your _own_. Shit, I think you could give a few of these Winchesters a run for their money when it comes to guts.”

Meg let out a breathless laugh, which caused a tear to slip from her eye. She quickly wiped it away with her jacket sleeve and took a large breath, steadying her composure so that she could finish the conversation.

“Well, we're all cut from the same cloth, so I guess these Winchesters and I are pretty even,” she replied, her expression turning meaningful before saying, “Thank you for being there for me, Clarence. I owe you a lot.”

“You don't owe me a thing,” Clare firmly stated, “Well, maybe a hug or two, but -”

Before he could even finish his sentence, Meg reached both arms out to circle them around his torso. Clare smiled and wrapped his own arms around her, enjoying the peppermint scent of her wavy hair. He would probably never get over how good it felt to hug her, because every time he did, he was reminded of all the times he wished for it as a child. And now it was finally happening. Beyond them, Clare could see Castiel watching the interaction with a pleasant smile of his own. Meg eventually unwound her arms and took a step back so that she could look up at him.

“I, uh, heard you were going on your Honeymoon tomorrow,” she mentioned.

“Yep. We're heading out at about five o'clock,” Clare nodded.

“I hope you and Jude have a great time. I'm, um, probably going to go tonight,” Meg admitted, gesturing toward the angel next to her, “But blue eyes over here helped me get a cell phone, so if you ever need anything, just call, okay? I don't care what it is.”

“I will,” Clare answered, “I love you.”

Clare wanted those to be the last words she heard from him, just in case something happened. Meg smiled at the sound, lowering her head a little in seriousness.

“I love you too, kid,” she replied, “Have a great night.”

With their formal goodbyes in place, Clare gave his mother one more quick hug, tossed a wave toward Castiel, and finally turned to finish his trek to Jude's bedroom. A light, airy feeling was swirling in his stomach as he listened to his own footsteps echo down the hall. Everything he said was true. He really _was_ proud of Meg for being strong enough to check herself into rehab. Even if she was clean, there was nothing wrong with getting a little extra help. Clare was simply in shock of how amazingly this day was unfolding. Pledging himself to the person he loved most, holding a newborn baby, watching his mother grow into the person she was always meany to be. Clare's life was so damn _good_.

And there was one person he had to thank for all of it.

When Clare gently opened Jude's bedroom door, he was greeted with the sight of his tired angel sprawled out over the bed. Jude was still wearing his white pants and unbuttoned dress shirt, looking as if he had simply flopped over in exhaustion. His mouth was open, letting out faint snores as he lay in a peaceful pose. And Clare thought that watching Jude walk was good. It had nothing on this precious view.

Clare shrugged out of his own vest as he stepped over to the other side of Jude's bed. But as he approached, he caught sight of a small piece of paper on the spare Superman pillow near Jude's head. It had handwritten words that Clare had to get close to read.

_Clare, wake me up for sex. – Jude_

The sight of Jude's actual signature on the paper made Clare stifle a giggle. Whoa, Jude really wanted to have sex tonight, didn't he? Little did the poor guy know, it was almost morning. Though he was very tempted to comply with Jude's request, Clare thought the angel simply looked too peaceful to disturb. Besides, their entire Honeymoon was about to start in just a few hours. Sex could wait until then, right?

“Sorry, Jay,” Clare whispered to his snoozing husband as he carefully laid down next to him, “We'll do it in a few hours. I promise."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If this chapter seems slow or uneventful, it's because I just wanted to pack in even more fluff than I had originally intended by squeezing this chapter right before the last one. (Am I in denial of the approaching end? Yes. Yes I am.) XD I thought it would be best if Meg sought out a little more help than what the Winchesters alone could provide. Clare's right; It does take a lot of courage to admit when you need help, and even more to do something about it. Much love and admiration to all of you who have reached out for help when you needed to! You are truly amazing! :D And I know that Jude and Clare still haven't had sex yet, but I'm kinda saving it for the last chapter. (Most of you probably already know why, don't you?) ;D Also, the reason Ollie is super excited to build that fort is because he always wanted to build one with his dad, but of course, Eddie never had the time. (Don't worry, Ollie. You'll get that fort.) ;D Folks, there is only one more chapter left for this part, but at least there will be one more installment for the finale. (Yes. The actual finale. For real this time. Lol) XD I just want to thank you all for taking the time to read this monster of a story, and for sharing your love and comments! I love you guys! *hug* The last chapter will be out soon! :)


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains sweet, sweet Judence smut! :D Enjoy!

“Are you ready, Jay?”

Jude snapped out of his trance-like thoughts at the sound of his husband's voice. The two of them, along with the rest of their family, were all gathered in the control room of the bunker. Clare and Jude were each holding their suitcases, preparing to leave for their exciting – and infuriatingly secretive – honeymoon, and everyone else was there to wish them Bon voyage.

“Y – yeah,” Jude replied quietly.

After receiving the answer, Clare took hold of Jude's hand and started to walk around the room; pausing continuously so that they could offer hugs to each member of their family. Uncle Sam and Gabe were first. Sam patted Jude's shoulder warmly and smiled down at him.

“I hope you guys have fun,” he smiled, “Just remember to use protection, alright?”

Everyone laughed – except Jude. He wasn't planning to use any sort of protection that night...

“C'mere, sidekick!” uncle Gabe said next, tugging Jude down into a warm hug, “You're gonna have a great time! And, hey...”

Gabe's voice lowered to a whisper and he pulled back enough to hold something discretely between their chests. Jude glanced down just in time to see a tiny glass jar filled with about five cherries. The sight of the red fruit made Jude's eyes widen. Were those the special cherries that Jude had requested the week before? The same ones that made Clare give him the best round of sex Jude ever had?

“I made you a special batch,” Gabe admitted in a whisper as he tucked the jar gently into Jude's jacket pocket, “Just don't eat more than one at a time, okay? And be sure to space them out.”

“I will,” Jude promised with a grin, “Thank you so much, uncle Gabe.”

“Don't mention it, Superman. You go have lots of fun,” the golden archangel winked.

After their interaction, Jude swiftly stuffed his hand into his pocket to hold on to the tiny jar. Oh, man. Tonight was going to be so amazing... Clare gently guided Jude to the next couple, Jessie and Ollie, who were holding their newborn baby girl. Charlie was wrapped up in a pink and yellow blanket – Jessica's old one – and sleeping peacefully. As excited as he was to be going away on vacation with his new husband, Jude found that he couldn't stop looking at the little sleeping baby in his cousin's arms. Charlie was so adorable and sweet, and Jude couldn't wait to spend more time with her. But of course, their bonding time would have to wait until after the honeymoon.

“Jude,” Ollie smiled, gaining Jude's attention, “Your parents told me where you're going and – well, you're so lucky! I've always wanted to go there.”

“ _Shut up_ , gingerbread. If you ruin the surprise, I'll have to kill you,” Clare growled playfully.

Though Clare was joking, Oliver gulped and nodded as if he thought the demon was being serious. Jessica only giggled and shook her head as she swayed around with Charlie.

“You guys have a great time. And be sure to take lots of pictures for us,” she beamed.

Jude wanted to respond, but he was too busy staring at the baby. Man, Charlie already had Jessica's tiny nose and tufts of Ollie's red hair. She looked just like her parents... and it made Jude wonder if _his and Clare's_ kids would look just like them... Before he could get too caught up in his thoughts, Jude was tugged further along the line of people. Rowena greeted Clare with a warm hug as Bobby and Crowley looked on fondly.

“Have a lovely, whimsical holiday, you two,” Rowena sang.

“We will, Ro,” Clare promised.

“Y'all got some angel blades and holy water packed away in there, too?” uncle Bobby asked, his voice tainted with concern as he nudged Clare's suitcase with his foot, “Never know when you'll be attacked by somethin'. Best to be prepared.”

“Pretty sure Jude could smite anything that comes our way,” Clare hummed, tossing Jude a wink.

“Very true,” Crowley added, turning to face Clare completely, “I've called ahead to the hotel and told them of your early arrival. If you should run into any problems with the staff, boy, let me know. I will gladly handle it myself.”

Bobby rolled his eyes as if he was tired of hearing Crowley throw his weight around, but Clare only smiled and nodded.

“I will,” he promised, “Thanks again for organizing our stay, Crowley.”

“No need to thank me, son. It's what fathers are for,” Crowley mentioned lowly with a subtle wink.

The two demons shared a small look before Clare reached out to hug Bobby and Crowley at the same time. Their loving exchange only lasted a few moments, after which Clare and Jude finally wandered over to Jude's parents, who were standing by the wall with smiles. Luckily, Jude didn't have to say goodbye to Dad or Pop yet, because they were going to be dropping Clare and Jude off at their honeymoon destination. Wherever that was...

“Hello, sons,” Papa greeted warmly.

Jude blushed bashfully as he stole a glance toward Clare. Wow. He never thought he would hear his Papa refer to Clare as his son, too.

“Got everything? Ready to go?” Dad asked.

“Yep. Let's do it,” Clare announced, turning to toss one more wave at everyone else, “Later, losers!”

The rest of the family chuckled a little and offered waves of their own as Papa and Dad stepped closer. Pop instantly reached out to wrap his whole arm around Jude's shoulder, holding him close to his torso. Jude figured that it was because they were about to fly somewhere and Pop knew how much Jude hated to fly. Clare's hand was still clenched tightly around Jude's as Dad walked up to wrap an arm around Pop and one around Clare. The four of them were huddled in a compact circle, of which Papa seemed to be in control of. When Jude looked up to him, Pop's smile dimmed a little.

“We must fly now, Jude,” he explained, “Hold tight to me and close your eyes.”

Just as he did when he was a little kid, Jude clung to the back of his Papa's trench coat and rolled his face into Pop's shoulder, burying himself into his Papa's embrace so that he wouldn't feel so terrible when the woosh came. And, this time, Jude was surprised to find that he barely felt the flight at all. He didn't know whether it was from his parents' hug or Clare's tight hand on his own – maybe both – but he felt totally calm during the trip.

Before he even lifted his head, Jude sensed that the temperature and noise around him had changed. A warm breeze was suddenly tossing his jacket and hair around, and the smell of fresh flowers and salt water immediately infiltrated his lungs. It felt like he was standing outside in the sun; somewhere light, open, and full of activity. Soon, he felt a pair of lips brushing against his ear as a voice spoke in a whisper.

“Open your eyes, Jay,” Clare breathed eagerly.

At his husband's beckon call, Jude instantly complied, raising his head and blinking around to see his surroundings. To his left, there were a few busy streets and tall buildings in the distance, reaching up toward the beautiful blue sky overhead. But to the right – and below his own feet – a light, sandy beach rolled out to the shore, where blue water stretched all the way to the horizon. Warm sunlight was cascading down from above, making heat radiate from the sand. It was a large, heavenly beach, complete with strangers playing volleyball and kids building sand castles. Jude gulped and looked back to his small group, where Clare, Dad, and Pop were all studying him with excited faces.

“Um... We're at the beach?” Jude guessed, unsure of why they looked so giddy.

“Not just any beach, little man,” Dad explained.

“Jay, we're in _Hawaii_ ,” Clare beamed.

Jude sucked in a sudden gasp. Hawaii?! They were really in Hawaii?! Jude had never been to Hawaii before! In fact, it was the only state on his map that was still blank. But now, he would get to finally fill it in! Which meant -

“Dad! Pop! My – my map is finished!” Jude gasped, looking between his parents in utter excitement, “I can fill in Hawaii, now! It's all done! I -”

As Jude rambled on about the accomplishment, he realized that Dad was reaching behind him with a wide grin. From his back, Dad pulled forward an old, rolled up piece of paper that Jude knew all too well. Dad unrolled it to reveal the nearly complete map of the United States that usually hung above his bed back home. Dad and Pop brought it to Hawaii with them, along with a blue colored pencil. Dad and Pop grinned as they held both objects out to Jude.

“Here you go, Buddy. Finish her up,” Dad encouraged.

Though he felt moisture trying to gather in his eyes, Jude gulped, took the pencil from his teary-eyed Papa, and stepped forward to color in the small state of Hawaii on his map. His hand was a little shaky, but he managed to fill it in. He also wrote 'Honeymoon' under it in sloppy handwriting, before backing up to take it all in. There it was; Jude's whole life in color. He had stepped foot in all fifty states; sometimes with his parents and other times with Clare. But always with someone that he loved. And now, he would get to hang it back up like a trophy to gaze at it whenever he needed to feel accomplished again.

“Pop and I will take this home for you, Jude,” Dad promised as he began to roll the map back up.

“But you're not finished.”

Jude turned to see what his fiance was talking about – and found that Clare was holding open a map of his own. Only this one was a completely blank map of the _entire world_. Jude gulped again as he blinked between the map and Clare's smug face. The smirking demon reached up to gesture to the whole thing.

“This one is _ours_ , Jay,” he explained, “and now we get to fill in America.”

A fresh wave of awe and _love_ swept through Jude's whole tingling body. Clare had picked out a map for them to fill in _together_! That meant he wanted to travel to every part of the entire world with Jude! While Jude stood motionless with his mouth open, Clare tapped on the map again.

“Well? Are you gonna fill it in, man?” the demon chuckled.

Though tears of joy were oozing from his eyes, Jude smiled and stepped over to color in the United States on the world map. It was a lot smaller than Jude thought it would be, but that just meant that he and Clare had so much more to explore. And they could do it, one country at a time. Because they had the rest of their forever ahead of them.

As soon as he finished filling in America, Jude instantly raised up to capture Clare's mouth with his own. They stood there, on a hot beach in Hawaii, making out for several seconds – before Dad's loud cough came from behind them. Jude paused to turn back and look at his parents, who seemed equally uncomfortable about having to watch Jude and Clare kiss so passionately.

“You boys have a good time here, okay? Just remember the buddy system,” Dad said.

“W – we will,” Jude promised bashfully.

“Please pray to me if you require any assistance. I will always be listening,” Papa added nervously.

“That means _call us_ , dammit. We want to hear from you, alright?” Dad grumbled.

“Yes. Alright,” Clare nodded, “We'll call you in a few hours.”

Dad nodded and reached out to take Pop's hand, prepared to leave. But it seemed like Papa wanted to linger. The blue-eyed angel blinked sadly toward Jude like he didn't want to go. But Pop still managed to speak.

“I love you, son,” Papa breathed.

“I love you too, Papa. Thank you so much for bringing us here. I'll call you soon, okay?” Jude replied, wanting to put his mind at ease.

After taking a breath, Papa smiled and nodded before looking to Dad and flying away with him. The two of them disappeared from the beach, leaving Clare and Jude standing alone in the sand. Jude immediately looked up to his fiance, who was currently rolling up their brand new, mostly blank map with a smile.

“Well, it's just us now, Superman,” the demon purred, “Are you ready to check out the hotel room?”

Jude swallowed harshly, able to feel his own blood pressure spiking. He was acutely aware of the jar of cherries in his pocket and the weight of his own organ inside his pants.

“Yes,” Jude nearly croaked, “Let's go.”

* * *

After saying goodbye to their son in Hawaii, Cas flew with Dean back to the bunker in the blink of an eye. Dean braced himself for the flight, but the inertia still made him sick. By the time he landed back on his feet, Dean's hand was clinched hard around Cas's and his stomach was in his throat. But the familiar feeling and smell of home was able to put him at ease.

Cas had flown directly into Jude's room and he and Dean both landed at the foot of their child's bed. The Batman nightlight was still lit in the corner, the bed was unmade, and various clothes were tossed around on the floor. Dean figured that Cas had made them reappear in this room so that they could put his finished map back in its frame on the wall. After all, the last thing Dean wanted to do was lose the precious piece of paper.

After pecking a kiss to the back of Cas's hand, Dean let it go and walked over to grab the empty frame back off the wall. The room remained eerily silent as he went about taking the frame apart and unrolling the map to place it back inside. Dean figured that his husband was feeling the same discomfort that he was. Being in Jude's room _without_ Jude there felt like intruding somehow. But despite the awkward emotions, Dean still managed to get Jude's map back up on the wall in no time. The states – now all completely filled – looked amazing. This was something that Dean had wanted to see ever since Jude was born. A completed map hanging over his son's bed. And, damn, it looked perfect.

“What do you think, Cas?” Dean grinned.

The man stared at the map and waited to hear his angel's answer, but no such reply came. Worried, Dean turned around to see if Cas had already left, but found the angel standing quietly by the dresser. Dean studied his husband, noticing that Cas had picked something up and was staring at it. It wasn't until Cas turned slightly that Dean was able to see the faded yellow and black fabric of Jude's old stuffed bumble bee.

Dean exhaled as he watched Cas slowly back up. The angel, still clinging to the old bee, took several steps back until his legs bumped against Jude's bed and he gradually lowered himself to sit. A twinkle of wetness glimmered on the edge of Cas's cheek. The droplet slowly rolled down his chin and dripped onto the plush toy in his hands. The sight of the distraught angel ripped Dean's heart to shreds. Cas was in so much pain. But how could Dean fix it?

“Cas?” Dean murmured softly.

Cas's throat quivered with a gulp as he turned the little bumble bee over and over in his fingers.

“Jude... doesn't require his bee anymore, Dean,” the angel said lowly, voice full of sorrow, “... He doesn't require _us_.”

“That's not true,” Dean instantly denied.

Though the man was being honest, the angel didn't seem to believe him. Cas only stared down at the plush toy and sat in silence. Dean wished he could find a way to convince Cas that everything would be alright. Because even though Jude wasn't a child anymore, he still needed his parents in his life. Wanting to comfort his husband, Dean walked around the bed to stop in front of Cas. He knelt down on the floor, shifting himself into the angel's view by taking hold of Cas's knees and looking up into his beautiful, tear-filled eyes.

“Cas,” Dean began, keeping as much comfort in his voice as possible, “Jude might not be a baby anymore. But he'll always be _our_ baby. Know what I mean?”

Cas's expression contorted and he shook his head in confusion. Man, Dean really wished he could put this in a way Cas would understand. The man sighed and slid his hands over to grasp Cas's fingers, holding the bumble bee with him.

“Babe, we've done everything we can,” Dean attempted again, hoping he was making sense, “We've fed him, clothed him, held him when he was scared, taught him about life, let him make some mistakes, helped him figure out love... Cas, we did our job as parents. And this – as horrible as it is – it's part of the job, too. We have to let him go and live life on his own.”

Cas nodded, but more liquid pooled in his ocean eyes.

“But I... I will _miss_ him, Dean,” the angel admitted breathlessly.

Dean's throat burned, making his own eyes water a little.

“I know, Cas. I will too,” the man confessed, “But Jude's not going away forever. He'll come visit. And Clare's gonna take good care of him in the meantime.”

Cas nodded again, but it seemed like Dean's words still weren't resonating with him. Cas loved their baby deeply, and seeing him go off on his own shattered the poor guy. There had to be something Dean could offer to comfort him...

“Cas, Jude might not always be here with you, but _I_ will,” he promised, looking down at the bee in Cas's lap, “I know it's not the same, but -”

“Yes, It is,” Cas interrupted.

Dean looked up to see Cas reached down to grab him by the shoulder. The angel seemed to feel a little better all of the sudden. Like the remembrance of living with Dean soothed him

“Dean, it gives me great joy to know that I will spend the rest of my existence with you,” Cas reminded, “You are precious to me in every way... I only wish we could have kept our child at home a little longer.”

“Me too,” Dean agreed as he caressed Cas's fingers with his own, “He'll be back though, Cas. And we'll keep his room exactly the way he left it.”

“Hmm,” Cas hummed, finally wearing a full smile, “I suppose I should put his bee back, then. In case he needs it.”

Dean smirked and nodded, so glad to see the happiness return to his angel's pretty face. The man helped his husband stand up again before walking back to the dresser with him. Cas gently laid Jude's bee among the other things on his dresser before taking in the sight of it all, sliding an arm around Dean's back in the process.

“There. Now it's perfect again,” Cas smiled.

“It sure is, babe,” Dean replied, leaning over to sneak a kiss to the side of the angel's neck, “Now how about we go raid the fridge for some pie?”

Cas huffed a breath of exhaustion, though his smile stayed.

“Will you ever desire any sustenance other than pie, Dean?” Cas grumbled.

“Not a chance,” Dean answered.

The couple slowly made their way out of their child's bedroom and into the hall. Outside, Dean paused to take one more look at all of Jude's things, admiring his superhero posters and the complete map above his bed, before slowly pulling the door closed behind him.

* * *

Jude had never seen such a beautiful hotel room in his entire life.

It was so light and open, filled with sand colored walls, light blue furniture, and a pure white bed. The bed itself was huge; big enough to hold at least four people comfortably. He and Clare would be able to wrestle on it without ever falling off. And it was situated facing a set of double doors that led out to a balcony.

Luckily, this balcony was only on the second floor. It was low enough that Jude didn't feel dizzy when he looked outside, but still high enough to look out and see endless palm trees, sand, and ocean water. At the threshold of the balcony doors, Jude paused to take in a deep breath of the salty breeze, filling his lungs with the scent of the ocean. It was no wonder people claimed the ocean had magical properties. Just breathing it in made Jude feel like he was floating on air.

“Yes, I did.”

Jude turned around to face the room again, where he saw his new husband walking around the room. Clare was talking on the phone, holding it to his ear while he moved their luggage around.

“The manager brought us up here himself. And he looked terrified,” Clare said into the phone, “You wouldn't have anything to do with that, would you, Crowley? … No, of course not.”

Clare paused to look at Jude and roll his eyes playfully, to which Jude giggled. Of course uncle Crowley probably threatened the hotel manager if he didn't provide Clare and Jude with a good time. Crowley was always threatening people to get his way. Jude continued to watch from the doorway as Clare attempted to slide out of his jacket one arm at a time as he held the phone.

“Yes, they brought the champagne,” Clare said, “Why does it matter? … Yeah, I want a romantic vacation, but... Actually, you know what, guys? I've gotta go. Jude's waiting on me.”

Jude gulped, realizing that Clare was trying to hurry off the phone so that they could finally be alone.

“Yeah... I'll call you back later,” Clare said to his parents, “Okay... Yep, you too. Okay, bye.”

With a huff of frustration, Clare finally brought his phone down to hang up and toss it on a nearby table. He ran a hand through his shaggy blonde hair afterward, finally turning to face Jude with a grin. Jude smiled back, but felt a twinge of arousal shoot through him. This was it. They were finally alone together in their hotel room. On their honeymoon...

“Sorry about that, Jay. I told them not to call until tomorrow, but you know how Crowley is,” Clare explained as he strutted directly toward Jude, “I guess this is the moment you've been waiting for, huh?”

Clare looked so damn sexy that Jude was at a loss for words.

“Huh?” the angel breathed.

The demon chuckled, reaching up to slide his hands up the back of Jude's head.

“Sex,” Clarence clarified, “You've been wanting to do it since last night. You left me a note and everything, remember?”

“Y – yeah,” Jude recalled, “But you didn't do what I said.”

Clare laughed again, gently scratching Jude's scalp with his fingers, causing goosebumps to raise on Jude's skin.

“You were way too cute to wake up,” Clare explained, lowering his head until their lips were close enough to touch, “... but I'm all yours now.”

With a soulful whimper, Jude closed the distance between their mouths. Clare's kiss tasted sweeter than ever, holding hints of affection and _fire_ inside. Their hands instantly dove to start undoing each others' clothes while they made out unabashedly. Clare tugged at Jude's jacket and shirt, taking his time to get Jude naked. But Jude went straight for the belt around Clare's waist. As his hands worked, Jude could feel that Clare was slowly getting hard, and he couldn't wait to bring him to a full salute.

Because this time, their sex was going to be nothing short of pure magic.

“Mmm,” Jude huffed heatedly, moving to kiss Clare's lengthy neck, “I want you, Clare. I want you so bad.”

Clare suddenly grunted and circled his arms around Jude, grabbing him to spin around and head for the bed. Their feet stumbled like newborn deer on their way there, but they made it just in time to fall onto the bottom edge. By then, Jude was topless and Clare's pants were near his ankles. But Clare took the time to rid himself of his own shirt before leaning down to recapture Jude's mouth. They kissed again and ground their hips together, rutting their growing erections together through the thin fabric of their underwear.

“ _Ah_ ,” Jude moaned aloud.

The angel's hands slid up the demon's bare back, fingertips brushing over the long scar etched across the top of his shoulder blades. In the meantime, Clare was yanking at Jude's pants and underwear, sliding them off to gain access to Jude's privates. Jude's hard, thumping erection fell heavy against his stomach and flicked around, filling up with blood so fast that it made Jude lightheaded. The sight of it caused raw arousal to flash in Clare's greenish-brown eyes.

“Damn,” Clare panted, “You're as hard as a rock, Jay.”

“ _Gnnuh_ ,” Jude whimpered, wiggling around the bed, “ _Please_.”

He didn't want Clare to stare at him. He wanted Clare to _touch_ him; make love to him in all the right ways. Jude's whiny plea seemed to kick Clare into action. The demon quickly stood up off the bed to pull the rest of his clothes off – which revealed his own swinging hard-on – before climbing back up. He paused to run his hands all over Jude's front, caressing Jude's chest, stomach, and tense testicles, before reclaiming Jude's mouth with his own. They tongued each other with panting breaths as Clare slid his way between Jude's legs. But then, Clare paused again.

“Lube,” the demon breathed, “Shit, I forgot -”

Before Clare could finish the sentence, Jude held his hand out and used his grace to conjure up a bottle of lubricant. Uncle Gabe had taught him how to call objects without using much grace, but only in emergencies. And since this was pretty much an emergency... Clare grinned as he reached out to take the tube.

“Holy shit. You're _amazing_ , Jude,” the demon complimented, “What else can you do with that grace?”

Jude gulped on the bed, realizing that this was a perfect opportunity to explain his plan.

“I'll show you,” the angel breathed, “Would it – would it be alright if I _glowed_ this time?”

Jude was afraid that Clare would automatically say no. After all, Clare probably knew it was how Jess and Oliver got pregnant on their honeymoon, right? And from the small hint of surprise in Clare's eyes, Jude knew that he understood. But despite having the knowledge of what could happen, Clare still nodded.

“Yeah,” he answered, “Hell yeah. Let's do it.”

An overwhelming sense of relief and _joy_ came over Jude as he laid in bed with his new husband. Not only was Clare fine with the grace, but he actually sounded excited about it. Maybe he wanted to start a family just as much as Jude did.

Another kiss started up between them as Clare quickly lubed up his fingers and slid them between Jude's legs. A throaty moan erupted from Jude's mouth as he felt Clare working him open. And when he finally felt Clare's swollen erection slide into him for the first time in a while, Jude clung to the bed and tossed his head back with euphoria.

“ _Ah!_ ” Jude cried, “Yes! _Clare!_ ”

With Jude's encouragement leading him on, Clare began to thrust. He was moving swiftly in and out of Jude's body, creating a beautiful rhythm on the bouncing bed. In the meantime, Jude inwardly got himself prepared. He and his own grace never saw eye-to-eye, but this time, it seemed like even it was ready for this. Because Jude's entire body began to glow on its own, brightening the room with a vibrant white shine. Clare made a sound that caused Jude's own erection to twitch eagerly.

“ _Shit_ ,” the demon growled in arousal, his hips picking up speed, “Holy shit, that feels _amazing_ , Jay!”

The sound of Clare's approval only made Jude's grace intensify. The two of them were practically bathing in it, being blinded by grace and sheer pleasure as they moved together. Jude could feel Clare's hard shaft penetrating deep inside him, almost caressing a different part of his being. Clare wasn't just inside Jude's body, he was inside Jude's _grace_. Inside his very _soul_. They were lingering in the eye of a hurricane of raw pleasure, sharing a spiritual act.

“Clare,” Jude called out, clinging desperately to the demon's back as he rode him, “ _Harder_!”

Clare obliged, thrusting with every ounce of power he had. Jude absorbed the blows, pressing back with just as much power. Through the light of his grace, Jude could see that Clare was close to the edge. His handsome face was contorting, his mouth was dipping further open, and his breath was hitching.

“Gnah, Jude,” the demon panted in a high pitched voice, “I'm so close, I -”

A loud moan roared from Clare's open mouth, but Jude barely heard it. Because he was too busy feeling the pulse of hot liquid rushing into his stomach. The angel blinked down at his own glowing body in amazement, pressing his hand just below his own belly button. He could _feel_ that! He could feel Clare's seed entering his body! And it felt _so damn good_!

Jude let out a moan of his own as he grasped his own waving erection. The thing started pulsing as soon as he touched it, painting wet ribbons up his glowing stomach. For a second, Jude was too delirious to even think properly. He just thrust upward and back, lingering in the high for as long as he could.

But as soon as he came back to his senses, Jude panted and blinked toward the ceiling. His first thought was of what just happened. Clare had slipped back out of his body and was now leaning on his left side, looking down at Jude's glowing body in awe. Jude carefully stuffed his grace back into his body, making the room go slightly darker again. And after it was gone, he sat up a little and held his hand back to his stomach.

His heart was beating fast in his chest and there was a smile on his sweaty face. Jessica said that she was able to feel her own pregnancy only minutes after sex, so Jude prepared himself, bracing to feel the sensation of life inside his body. Clare seemed just as eager, sitting awkwardly on the bed with his wet boner wilting between his legs as he stared full force at Jude's belly. They were both waiting impatiently to see what would happen.

A minute passed. Then two. Then five more.

“Feel anything?” Clare eventually asked.

Jude gulped and pressed his own hand a little harder to his own stomach. He knew he would be able to feel something in there, because grace-sex was guaranteed to make babies. And Jude definitely felt Clare ejaculate inside his grace. He knew they had created life together.

But half an hour later, Jude and Clare were still sitting naked on the bed in silence. And despite receiving a heavy dose of Clare's genetic material, Jude couldn't feel anything in his stomach. It was empty. There was no baby.

There was nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before you sharpen your pitchforks and light your torches, please hear me out! No, this was probably not the ending you were hoping for. But without it, there would be no part 11 on the horizon for the Purpose Series. So while I know this is disappointing, at least we all have something (hopefully good) to look forward to... right? :) (Please don't hate me. Lol) I have to say, I really empathize with Cas in this chapter. Jude is like my baby, and I don't want to see him grow up. But all children must. :( Luckily, Cas will always have Dean to keep him company, and Jude will have Clare. ;) Other than the sad ending, I really hope that you all enjoyed the end of this part. I tried to shove as much fluff in there as I could. And while I'm not sure when exactly the next part will start (I'm aiming for just a few weeks,) I do, however, have the title. The next part will be called “Miracles,” and I really hope that you guys stick around to read it. Because it will be the finale of the whole series. (For real, this time. I swear. Lol) ;D Thank you guys – serious, thank you sooo much – for always reading and commenting on this story. You guys are like my family, and I always enjoy hearing your stories and generally enjoying life with you. Most of you are like good friends to me, and my life would not be the same without you. :') Thank you so much for staying with me and these characters for so long. I love you all from the bottom of my heart. And I promise that the next part will be out as soon as possible! :D Take care until then, guys! :)


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